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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22366681">You've got the love (and isn't it beautiful)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_August/pseuds/B_August'>B_August</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Deviates From Canon, Explicit Language, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Original Character(s), Self-Indulgent, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:28:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>50,769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22366681</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_August/pseuds/B_August</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a classic girl meets boy while punching creeps in an alley, become friends, and gain feelings for each other but are total dorks about it fic.</p><p>**(Later Chapters better than the Prologue)**</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bat Family &amp; Original Character(s), Jason Todd &amp; Everyone, Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s) of Color, Tim Drake &amp; Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue: Welcome to the (Grand) Illusion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Honestly, this has been sitting in my Docs for some time now and I've been feeling bold. So, here we are.</p><p>**Warning**</p><p>This fic is completely self-indulgent</p><p>It starts off pretty slow</p><p>Some, if not most, characters are OOC</p><p>As usual, no beta</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This begins at the outside of a mansion; a standard ten bedroom, ten bathroom, six garage, open concept with cherry hardwood floors, castle-looking mansion that you’d expect to see in a quiet fictional town in the upper east coast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon entrance, there is a grand staircase; under which sits a large bookcase at the side, which hides a trap-door underneath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the other side of this door is a termagant, slattern, and scruffy-looking, african american girl of high birth, who had been locked away in a Cinderella- looking room by her actual, honest to god, birth mother since she was 11. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Today, June 23rd, is her 18th birthday.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Map of escape and train ticket? Check. Journal? Check. I.D. and Social? Got it. Birth Certificate? Flaunt it. No, wait, don’t. It might get stolen and I really need this thing. Now...what am I missing? What…...could…...I...not……...Ah yes! Do I need this tho? Like, really. I could just. And done. Now I can just stuff more important things in a little better now. Brushed my teeth, washed my pits. Can't do anything about these clothes so I might as well pretend like I just came from a journey in Texas or something...Will they buy that? Eh, who cares.’ She thinks to herself as her warm, brown eyes scan the bed in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>{A faint chime is heard from above. The girl hurriedly ties her curly, 3A hair into a ponytail and bends down to move the humble bed that she was looming over a few seconds ago, revealing a hole leading to a vent. Knowing how little time she has left, she grabs the map and duffel bag filled with a few of her belongings, including a leather bound journal that looks like it has seen better days, a radio mainly used for morse code, and her laptop and goes into the vent with both before repositioning the bed and beginning her journey.}</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Within a few minutes, thanks to some really good timing, she was in town, heading towards the bank in long strides. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She enters in a bit of a shock, due to the fact that she underestimated how seriously these people took Sundays. She was thinking that there would be long lines and everything, but luck must've  been really on her side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[And by luck, I mean me, the writer. Hello.]</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eagerly, she rushes to one of the few available windows and gently slams her I.D., Social Security card and birth certificate down on the counter in front of the 30-something year old, balding clerk before brushing a few strands of her unruly, brown hair out her face-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning. I would like to access my inheritance from my father’s will, please.” The girl says, trying to sound as professional as possible</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes a moment to glance at the paper, card, and girl before speaking. “Ah yes, Miss Jones. If you will follow me-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair head towards the back, to the safe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They head to the deposit boxes and the man- whose name the girl finds out to be Mr. Todd Morrison- stops in front of a sizable box, takes out his standard fancy key-ring, selects a small key, jams it into the lock, and twists. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The box opens to reveal an advanced compact camera, an old leather bound  journal similar to hers but more worn, a portable music player and an extremely handsome swiss watch that had a somewhat worn leather strap. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mr. Morrison gives her an impressed look; one that she returns before gently placing the items in her bag and thanking him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as she turns away to leave, Mr. Morrison interrupts-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “I take it you do not want the rest of it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry- the what now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The rest of your inheritance? The 628.2 billion u.s. dollars and 228,000 gold bars that your father put in both your account and his will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that statement, her already large eyes widen as her eyebrows slowly raise and her head slightly cocks to the side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”, she breathes, unable to get her voice to completely work. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mr. Morrison nods with a slight trace of confusion at the dumbfounded youth in front of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I transfer some of the dollars to another bank via check?” She asks, recovering from her shock.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “I believe so, yes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok, great! And would it be possible to transfer my gold while I’m out of town via letter or phone call?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Yes, ma’am”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Excellent. In that case, I would like to withdraw 1 million in hundreds, please”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The 30-something year old quickly bows his head before walking to and opening another larger box. He takes out a few stacks and hands them to her- counting the bills as he does so. When she finishes stuffing them into her bag, he closes the box and leads her out to the lobby and window that they were previously at so that she could sign off on everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rushes out of the bank, just in time to catch her train to freedom; leaving behind some documents with a signature bearing only </span>
  <em>
    <span>CJ</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She makes it to the station just in time to board. The train itself is pretty becoming especially considering the fact that the exterior looks aged and chilly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Since she has the room, she lays her bag next to her and opens it to retrieve some of her stuff; as if she’s Dora the Mcfuckin' Explorer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>First, she takes out a couple hundred dollars from one of the stacks and stuffs them into her jeans. Then, she finds the watch and examines it, not only to find that it is, in fact, the swankiest thing she’d ever seen in her entire life, but also how it ticks; pun intended. After examining the camera, her attention falls to the music player and the journal; the music player has a surprisingly full battery, no password, and is filled with songs that her dad and her listened to and loved together, meanwhile, the journal is filled with calculations and formulas that he must've spent half of his life on; some focusing on chemicals and elements, others on codes and technological stuff.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Warily, she places them back in the bag and wipes her eyes before retrieving her laptop and powering it up; still extremely grateful that she was able to steal it back before it was too late. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The screen reads the standard login criteria and immediately she is overcome with regret due to the fact that she had already forgotten the password that she set a couple weeks ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, this doesn't stop her from attempting to fill out the space with whatever comes to her head while the screen reads ‘incorrect password’; this carries on until after the fifth attempt, when the little hint friend popped up and she thanked god that past her actually put the first three words of the password, jogging her memory and allowing her to get to her desktop and, consequently, her files on her destination. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first thing she would need to do is change her name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Afterwards, of course, she needs a place to stay ; preferably somewhere low key where no one will think to look for her~ or more like go. And by that she meant the area dubbed Crime-Alley; from what she sees, there should be no problem for her to find a place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that she should maybe get some new clothes before going to the bank and maybe even contacting her Gran.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Confident,she peers out the window at the passing terrain as the hours passed before finally reaching her destination by late afternoon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snapping to attention, she quickly shuts and stuffs her laptop back into the bag and hurries off while cautiously holding her bag close. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she steps out of the station, she can’t help but to notice how busy the city is compared to the town she just left as she makes her way to the courthouse; everyone seems to be doing something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She finally makes it in one piece, takes a number and sits down; taking this time to open one of the side compartments of her bag and retrieve a couple of folded documents and her ID, social security card, and birth certificate. A mixture of both excited and nervous, she allows her eyes to gloss over the sham of a certificate:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Carol Charlotte---it should’ve been the other way around from the get-go."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolls her eyes in disdain as she rests her head on the wall behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, her number gets called, prompting her to quickly get up and stride to the clerk’s window; papers in hand, bag in tow. The transaction is surprisingly fast, and C.J. leaves looking forward to the next 1-2 months when she’ll, in her eyes, be truly free.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite her unruly demeanor, she manages to hail a cab and heads to her soon-to-be new home, which she is dropped off on the front of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The poorly kept building looms over her like a giant vulture as she pays off her fare and heads in past the ‘apartments for rent’ sign while the taxi peels away; the inside is dimly lit and it is eerily quiet save for the faint cackling of someone who is obviously stuffing too much food into their mouths and a tv. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Carefully, she inches towards the sound and quietly opens the office door to find the landlord: a fleshy,balding, blotchy skinned, pale man with a nose that looks like it has been broken too many times to count and beady eyes. On his stomach was a paper plate that was filled to the brim with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and corn on the cob; his almost nonexistent mouth is smeared with grease and exposes yellowed teeth with every bite taken. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a raspy voice, he snarls.“What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annoyed, C.J. pulls a disgusted face before replying, “How much?” pretty bluntly; like an astute businesswoman who feeds off of the misery of her employees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> This, of course, catches the older man by surprise resulting in the out-of- towner continuing unprompted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How much for this building? Would 265k suffice?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Flabbergasted, the elder starts: “W-well, I’d have to evict everyone…..” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No need. Just you. By the end of tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “O-oh! W-w-well, in that case, I’m guessing that you’ll want the top floor or something, eh princess?”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ignoring his shorthanded comment, she continues, pointing to a laminated exterior plan: “Are there any available apartments on the fourth floor?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Um, yeah.” The man utters while reaching for a key and a stack of papers for her to sign.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> She does so and grabs the key before fishing out some money from her bag and slamming it on the surface nearest to him; resulting in him slowly picking it up, thumbing through the stack, and raising his eyebrow at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “You can keep the change.” She mutters as she officially takes her leave and climbs up the stairs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Restless, she stops in front of  apartment 408, unlocks, and opens the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The apartment itself is standard;  an open space for a living room with old floorboards that look as if they are one step away from snapping in half, a bathroom overrun with mold and grime with a toilet that looks as if it doesn’t completely work, a bedroom much like the one she just escaped from save for the creaky floorboards, a storage closet that has mold, a kitchen that seems functional enough to use with a tiny laundry/utility room that was separated via a creaky,rusty shutter door, and, finally, all of the windows are opaque instead of transparent; crust covering every inch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow satisfied, C.J. settles down on the floor near an electrical outlet, plugs in her laptop, retrieves her journal, and compiles a list of things to do and get in the morning before going through the files on her computer again for what seems like the billionth time; only stopping when the now previous landlord slides a paper under her door, requesting a meeting so that they can discuss and finalize the rest of the necessary things. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 1: Life (on Mars?)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just a short-ish chapter about what a life of freedom has been like for our main OC</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you're reading this, that means that the prologue didn't chase you off.</p>
<p>So thank you, and please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>------Time Skip: 3 months-----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie lays strewn upon her bed; her now short and grayish-blue hair is everywhere, including her very open mouth which produced no sound despite its status. Her duvet cover had been kicked off hours  ago and her pillow is barely on the bed itself; even her pajamas are in disarray. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Blackout curtains mask the harsh rays of the sun, along with the window that has been clean for a few weeks now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An abrupt knock cuts through the wonderful silence, startling her awake and causing her to topple out of bed and harshly onto the restored floor.After lumbering to the door, and going through a series of locks, she throws the door open to reveal Luciana Gancino, a tenant of hers, holding a plate of piping hot food with a large, kind smile on her face in her Hello kitty scrubs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “Buenos días, dulce hijita.” Luciana says cheerily</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie gives her a warm, close lipped smile before moving aside to welcome her friend in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Buenos días, Mrs. Gancino. Como estas hoy?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As she closes the door and moves to go to the cleaned and updated kitchen to make some coffee, Luciana takes a seat at the breakfast bar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh mi dio-I thought I told you to stop calling me that. It’s Luciana to you; or even Lucie would work.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “Sorry, I’m trying to knock that habit. Luciana.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The elder gives a pleased look at the youth’s surrender before continuing: </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s getting worse, y’know. Just last night we had sixteen people infected with Joker gas; half of them barely made it. Plus there was a stabbing..; if I hadn’t done something about the rust and gave him stitches when I did, he probably would have been one of those who we lost.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Concerned, Charlie hands her a mug; the fresh aroma of hazelnut attacks both of women's noses as the younger leans on the granite counter, waiting for the other to continue. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess that's why Milo left. It was too intense for him.” Lucie sighed before continuing, “Some-sometimes I myself want to leave. Even Batman can’t make Gotham more safe.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie nods thoughtfully before raising an eyebrow and speaking, "So, what’s stopping you, exactly? I mean, you’re one of the hardest working people I know. You should take a vacation, at least.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This earns a look and a shrug as Charlie gives the elder woman a plate and sips from her heavily creamed and sugared mug of coffee. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Some time after breakfast had ended and Luciana went on her way, Charlie exits her apartment dressed yet still exhausted, locks her door, tucks her keys into her already full pocket, and lumbers down the stairs; greeting each tenant she passes with outstanding familiarity before exiting the building. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The crisp, cool air attacks her as soon as she opens the door and walks out. Before she could even take another step, a blur of pastels slams into the comfortably dressed teen and engulfs her in its bright embrace; unfazed, she manages a few obscured words through suffocated lips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello to you too, Morg. Although, I’m pretty sure that yesterday was pastel day.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And your point is? Didn’t you once wear the same t-shirt for six days in a row?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>C.J. nods her head in defeat and self contemplation as she is finally freed enough for her to actually breathe and, ergo, talk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> Morgan Grace, a 20 year old, tall, pastel-clad woman, disapprovingly examines the shorter’s choice of wardrobe as they begin walking. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A “What the shit are you wearing?” is hissed out before being  met with a quick elbow to the shoulder and a “Fucking language”.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Seriously. What are you wearing? Why are you like this?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” Charlie exclaims with her arms held wide. “What’s wrong with jeans and a t-shirt?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything.” Morgan responds. “I know you have better clothes than this. I’ve been in your closet. Why do you keep doing this? You’re killing me.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And yet….”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “Ouch. Rude.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They finally make it to the bus stop after what feels like hours have passed just in time. After just two minutes, Morgan slathers her and C’s hands in sanitizer; causing the latter to laugh to herself before clearing her throat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Annoyed at her current surroundings, the tallest of the two looks over, “When, exactly,  are you getting your license?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The victim of this onslaught faces the commenter and cocks an eyebrow, “And you? When are you getting yours? Besides, I hope you know, when I do get my license, you’re most likely gonna miss being on the bus.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What- do you mean-?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A merciless smirk finds itself on the younger of the two, “I think you already know-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, why must you make me suffer like this?! First your outfit, and now this? What, do you have a crush on one of them? Is that why you’d hurt me like this instead of getting an actual car?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “First off, where would I park it? Secondly, there’s no guarantee that the tires would actually stay attached to the car, if it actually survives the night. And third, cars are too clunky, that’s why they get stolen in the first place. Besides, not that many people can handle motorcycles, much less take them apart, so I should be ok.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “At least get a new one, instead of, you know, junk.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not junk. Serge fixed it up and it looks brand new.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “-It’s junk. Sorry, not sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “You better not ask for a ride, then.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morg rolls her hazel-green eyes as they approach their stop and get off. Across the street sits their spot-a quaint cafe famous for nothing in particular, but was the spot where they decided that they were going to be best friends. They walk in unison, like a couple of secret agents, and end up in a booth by the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’know that Joker attack last night? I hear it took Batman, Nightwing, and Robin to take him down. Wish I could’ve been there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“To see Nightwing’s butt?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?! Psh-no.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie snorts. “Yeah, okay.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She takes a sip of her root beer as their waitress arrives with the duo’s food.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Here we are:” The woman says in a sickly, sweet Southern accent, “ A double bacon cheeseburger with extra bacon and a side of cheesy fries for Sweet Charlie and for Miss Morgan, chicken tenders with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Callie!” The girls say in unison before tearing into their food like ravenous animals.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mod phess mour fweet fol.” Charlie says through a full mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> She takes another sip to wash down the food before going back in as Callie lightly chuckles and walks away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---Several Minutes Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Here you go, Sugars.” Callie was back as they had just finished, and had placed two apple pie a la mode in front of them after taking away their empty dishes. “On the house.”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are an angel, Cal. You really are.” Charlie says, grinning widely at her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” The woman responds, bashful. “Aren’t you just the peachiest.” She walks away once more to attend to another table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I meally muve er.” Charlie says, scarfing down her desert. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan earnestly nods in agreement, her cheeks are puffed out like a chipmunk’s and there’s a bit of ice cream on the corner of her mouth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You have...something-” Charlie says, casually gesturing to the aforementioned spot.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Phanks.” Morgan mumbles, lowering her head and wiping the spot with a napkin. “Back to the license-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tomorrow. Today’s my last day of practicing so I’m gonna take the test after I’m done. Wanna come with?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan contemplates for a couple minutes before agreeing, just as their check came. They paid, tipped generously, and left to go to their neighborhood’s garage, where Sergio Carmello, the head mechanic and friend of Charlie’s, waited so they could finish up and he could drive them to the DMV. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As usual, she passed the test with ease and the trio find themselves heading to the movies to kill time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---About 2 Hours Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe they decided to end on that note!” Serge exclaimed as they exited the theater. Some of the popcorn fell from the bucket as he walked. “That shit is just too lazy!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey- everyone loves a good lost-lost sibling arc.” Morgan protested.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Too bad it wasn’t good.” Charlie countered as they approached the car. “It was just another half-assed cliche. They put too much on their plate with the action scenes and cameos, so we honestly should’ve seen it coming.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you!” Serge exclaimed as they got in the car, handing the popcorn to Morgan, who, when they arrived at the theater, called shotgun. “And they focused too much on the fact that it was a sequel, rather than a movie.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever, nerds. I liked it.” Morgan said, taking a handful of popcorn and eating it little by little.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They end their short day at Charlie’s, with six boxes of pizza, chicken wings, and a 2-liter bottle of soda on her old, tattered couch. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Almost right after her friends leave, as she’s cleaning up, the Ham radio that she brought with her, and set up on an end table by the window, switches on. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She gazes at it, hopeful; but no transmission taps out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie sighs and goes to finish what she started and take a shower. The hot water soothes her muscles; ones that she didn’t even realize were tense. Before she knew it, she finds herself humming one of the many songs that she and her father used to listen to as they messed around in his workshop. The lingering scent of chamomile and roses masks her skin even after she dries off and makes her sigh involuntarily.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> She steps out of the bathroom, dressed and refreshed, and immediately checks her locks and windows. With everything in order, she falls face first onto her bed, curls up under the covers, and hums herself to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, kudos and comments are more than welcome! ❤❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 2: Circulation of Events</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Who knew that a trash-ass ex could lead to some pretty good things?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Aand here's the girl meets boy part. (Still takes a bit tho)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Charlie wakes up tired, if that makes any sense. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She clumsily gathered everything she’d need for the day, including what she’ll need to get her license. She showers and finishes dressing just as Luciana, joined by Morgan, knocks on the door for breakfast and soon enough, the apartment is full of laughter and the smell of good coffee. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An hour later, Charlie, Morgan, and Lucie had gone their own ways; Charlie and Morgan to the DMV, and Lucie to her job. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---Another Hour Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That was fast…” Morgan mutters as the two girls exit the building.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll say.” Charlie responds as Serge’s car pulls up in the parking lot in front of them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The driver’s window lowers and Serge wordlessly pokes his head out, squinting. Smirking, Charlie flashes the newly commissioned card and gives a thumbs up as they walk over, which Serge wordlessly returns. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The drive to the garage felt longer than normal due to her anticipation. But boy, was it worth it when they finally got there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The bike was a 2011 Harley-Davidson Superlow; jet black and silver, twin saddlebags, small silver initials that were hers, and a Bell Qualifier DLX Blackout Helmet resting on the handlebars. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She could feel her eyes form into little cartoonish stars as she giddily made her way to the bike, slightly squeaking along the way. The keys were already in the ignition when Charlie hopped on and slipped on the sleek helmet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bitchin’, right?!” She exclaims, her voice muffled by the headgear. She turns the keys, earning a loud rumble that then settled into a steady purr; making her grin like a child that got locked in a candy store for the night. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ride was smooth like butter; much to her unbridled glee. She almost didn’t pay attention to her friends who were driving right beside her, trying desperately to keep up; the urge to take off her helmet and let her hair flow free creeps up her spine as her already large grin widens and her heart pounds.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Faster!’, a tremulous voice cheers from inside her mind. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her skin itches to follow the command; to speed out of the city and let loose on the open road. A laugh escapes her mouth as she turns another corner, followed by a triumphant whoop; she found herself wondering if this is what superheroes felt when they were flying around the city. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ride ends at their usual diner. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Callie holds her chest in shock upon finding out that the “portable death trap” was Charlie’s.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh dear! Too young! You’re way too young, oh my!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Callie. We made sure that it was extra safe,” Serge says before biting into his burger.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This does nothing to reassure the stout woman, who then spends the rest of their visit giving disgruntled looks like a disappointed aunt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The day finally ends and as soon as she shuts the door behind Maurice-her motorcycle-Charlie all but crawls to her bedroom after locking up for the night. Not even bothering to change into her pajamas, or even undress, she falls face first onto her mattress and immediately passes out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the first time she dreamed like that since she got there. Usually it was a comforting silence; but this time, she found herself in a bright and sunny field full of Daffodils. The air was light and breezy and the urge to run as far as she could overtook her; as she dashed through the field, she suddenly noticed that, one, she was barefoot, and two, it was beginning to get a bit too windy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A quick sneeze and she ends up staring at the ceiling; the muffled sounds of traffic and shouting can be heard outside her window, causing her to crack a lopsided smile before rolling over and landing face first on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You seem...energetic today.” Luciana states after silently watching Charlie for the past ten minutes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie looked at her as if she had two heads. “What d’ya mean?” She says before taking a sip of her coffee; Lucie shrugs before finishing her breakfast.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---45 Minutes Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Slow down!” Morgan shrieks over the roar of the engine, gripping onto Charlie as tightly as possible.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The latter grins widely.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This continues until they reach their destination- the mall.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You drive like a maniac.” Morgan mutters under the clank of hangers sliding against the metal rails.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was going the speed limit.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie gives her friend an odd look over the rack, scoffs, and goes back to browsing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now was as good a time as any to sneak in a pair of ripped jeans and maybe breeze over to the men’s section to grab some graphic tees and workout shirts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She then finds herself wandering over to the tools section where some industrial grade flashlights and calipers; the two things that she was missing to complete her toolbox. It didn’t take her long to start it; despite the fact that the previous landlord’s was old and defunct, making so that she had to start it from square one. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I seriously need to ask Serge if I can set up shop in a corner of his garage.” Charlie muttered to herself, grabbing the flashlight and caliper that she found best suited her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She makes a quick stop by the electronics to get a couple things and quickly pays for everything just as Morgan had finally found her and gave her a disapproving look upon seeing what she was buying.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That night, Led Zeppelin’s ‘Kashmir’ blared from her phone’s speakers as she sits sprawled against the couch, on the floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Parts from disassembled electronics that she brought earlier lay strewn about on the floor; mingling with tools from her toolbox and electronics ‘lab’, which was really just a bunch of tools and equipment that she set aside in a storage container. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her sleek safety glasses gently slip down the bridge of her nose before being hurriedly pushed back into place via the back of her wrist. Her computer and journals sit next to her in a manner that made it incredibly easy to read from her viewpoint. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The strands of hair that weren’t currently trapped in a ponytail tickles her ears and a small yawn escapes her lips and she takes a second or so to stare at the watch that was almost always present on her wrist; it had just turned 2:49 a.m. Letting out one more yawn, she turns the music off and begins putting everything away. She makes her way to her bedroom once she finished and put her phone to charge before falling face first onto her bed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---The Next Morning---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A knock on the door interrupts her solitary breakfast; Luciana had to take double shifts at the hospital and Morgan was at her boyfriend’s. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She cracks the door just a bit to see a delivery man holding a clipboard and standing next to two long-ish boxes;</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this the residence of, uh, Miss Charlotte Jones? Got a 39” and stand.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, yeah. That’s me,” she says, opening the door a bit more. “Where do I sign?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man hands her the clipboard and begins moving the boxes in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You could just put ‘em next to the couch, thanks.” she says while writing down her signature. She hands the clipboard back to him and bids him a good day as he leaves. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An hour later, as Charlie just finished connecting the t.v. to her phone’s hotspot, Morgan bursts in, slamming the door shut as she enters, and unceremoniously flopped down on the couch. Her normally cheery face was contorted with anger and there were black streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It takes about ten seconds for Charlie to drop what she’s doing and rush to her friend’s side while ordering takeout and dessert. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently, the douche-canoe had been cheating on her for a while and she had the misfortune of catching him in the act when she had come back from getting pizza. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For Charlie to say that she was surprised would be a lie. She had always gotten bad vibes from him since the day they were first introduced and tried to warn her friend, but, as she was told that day, the heart wants what it wants…. It still didn’t make any sense to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan spends that night in her bed while she takes the couch; of course, not without the former starting an argument about it. She conceded, however, when Charlie threatened to take up all the hot water in the shower. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---The Next Day---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie awakes to the smell of cinnamon infused oatmeal and the sound of bowls being taken out of the cupboard. She lazily gets up, stretches, and lumbers over to the kitchen; watching Morgan silently move around with her head resting in her palm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just as they finish eating, Charlie receives a message that would’ve made her dance if the current atmosphere didn’t have such a bleak undertone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t be interested in helping me set up shop, would you? We could go shopping…” Charlie says, still staring at the message from Serge.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” Morgan sighs, “I have nothing else to do anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’ll just be setting up. We could have a spa day afterwards, or something.” Charlie says, standing up to go get ready. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan perks up at this and runs to the room to change as Charlie chuckles and goes to pack up the tools and equipment needed before taking off her watch and putting in one of her dresser drawers for safe keeping.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A couple hours later, they had finished setting up shop, which was basically an extra garage room in the back that Serge had never used, and were getting ready to go to the spa when Serge expressed interest in tagging along for the sake of friendship-and healthy cuticles. So there they all were, in Serge’s truck, heading towards the nearest establishment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---About 3 Hours Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’know, I feel so zen right now.” Morgan said as they walked out of the building and made their way back to the truck. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie couldn’t help but to side eye her with quirked eyebrows. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Deke could show up here right now and I wouldn’t even care.” Morgan continued, getting into her seat and grabbing the seat belt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who wants ice cream?” Charlie questions flatly, buckling herself in and looking off into the distance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooh,” Morgan exclaims, leaving behind the previous subject, “Let’s go to the mall! That way we can get ice cream and some new outfits!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m game.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “Sure.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---3 More Hours Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You guys know where we should go next? A club. We should go to a club and get wasted.” Morgan says as they get back to the truck, once more; laden with bags.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serge and Charlie share a look through the rear-view mirror.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How about we get a bunch of alcohol, order some takeout, and chill at my place?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I wanna go dancing. And get wasted. Y’know, live a little?” Morgan says, pouting a little and gazing pointedly at Charlie for the last part.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once more, the other two share a look before grudgingly agreeing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So, after stopping by Serge’s place to change, they headed off to the nearest club that would allow an 18 year old. Then again, with the way she was dressed, that could be any club. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a sleeveless, checkered mini dress that bore a sweetheart neckline and was matched with knee-high, black suede boots. The outfit was completed with a feline eyeliner, volumizing mascara, and a Blue-Red Matte Trance lipstick; both courtesy of an insistent Morgan. Speaking of, the latter decided to wear a fire red mini dress with heels, matching eye makeup, and a black matte lipstick while Serge opted for a deep, navy v-neck, black jeans, and black ankle boots for himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All in all, they all looked pretty damn hot.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The nightclub was as sleazy as a nightclub could be; loose bouncers, people all but having sex on the dance floor, and wild-looking individuals hanging out by the open bar, which Morgan, closely followed by her trusty best friends, almost instantly gravitates to. After about 4 hours and 5 shots of tequila (for Morgan), they decide to that it would be best if they went home before they reached the point where they had to cut their losses. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They trudge outside to gentle, yet persistent rain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan could barely walk; Charlie being the one to support her as they exited and Serge had gone to get the truck. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Getting soaked, and deciding that it would be best to have Morgan lean on something before she toppled over, Charlie shuffles through the crowd with Morgan resting heavily on her shoulders and makes her way to a vacant spot in the alleyway next to the building; overlooking the leering eyes who watched her every move. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just as she sets Morgan down to rest, 6 burly men, in basically trucker clothes, lurch towards the girls. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Need some help, ladies?” One of them, the leader says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck off,” Charlie says in a low voice, tensing up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t talk to people like that if I were you, sweetheart.” Another one all but growls.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Scowling, Charlie balls her fist as the men begin to come closer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck. Off.” She repeats.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They step closer, chuckling. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie braces herself, her heart pounding and remembering what she was taught all those years ago. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her thumb wrapped down across the bottom of her curled finger, her fist kept tight, her first two knuckles aligned with the bones in her forearms, and her wrist aligned with her forearm; catching the one closest in his jaw. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His body hasn’t even hit the ground yet when his friends storm her; chins, necks, and throats are struck in a flurry of rage and fists and the occasional dodge. Not one of them had managed to get her so far; even though her soaked hair was everywhere and the raindrops in her thick, mascaraed lashes obstructed her vision. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Charlie is preoccupied with one, another, still reeling, pulls out a pocket knife and charges. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But, before he could reach her, a sudden crack pierces the air and the assailant gives a loud shout of pain and drops to the ground, clutching his wrist. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie takes this opportunity to knock the last guy out before drawing her attention to the large figure that had dropped down from above and was now towering over her; rain pattering off his red helmet as he put his smoking gun away in his holster. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” she breathes, tilting her head upwards and squinting to get a better look at him. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and makes her way to her friend who was basically passed out; picking her up as Red Hood inched towards them to help. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know if you're new here,” The Red Hood says, his voice muffled and modulated, “but it’s generally known to be a bad idea to go anywhere near an alleyway.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This earns an agreeing nod; as if to say ‘True.’ or ‘Fair enough’. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just then, the truck pulls up and Charlie wordlessly makes her way to it; Red Hood walking alongside her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I guess I owe you one.” Charlie says, giving him a small, lopsided smile as Serge made his way to them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I will keep that in mind,” he responds as he takes his leave, vanishing as fast as he appeared. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy crap! Was that-?!” Serge exclaims as he finally reaches her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup.” Charlie says simply as she hands the passed out Morgan to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Deciding that she’d rather lounge, Charlie climbs over into the bed of the truck and leans back on the rear panel.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You sure you wanna do that?” Serge calls from the front, where he’s currently trying to put Morgan and buckle her in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-huh.” Charlie responds, closing her eyes and letting the rain comfort her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She realizes, as Serge began to drive, that her knuckles were throbbing. She pushes her hair back, out of her face, and looks down to discover them bruised and swelling; she clenches her jaw as she flexes them, slightly wincing at the pain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Blinking through the rain, she looks up towards the dreary skyline as the truck turns a corner; she could’ve sworn she’d seen a figure on one of the rooftops before closing her eyes once more. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After finally pulling up at Charlie’s apartment and lugging Morgan up the stairs, they find themselves in the middle of her living room; soaked and tired. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serge lays Morgan on the couch as Charlie heads to the bathroom to grab some towels. She keeps one, putting it on her head while letting out a few tiny sneezes, then goes back to the living room to toss the rest to Serge before disappearing into her room to change. As she dries off, she pulls out a pair of sweatpants and the largest sweater that she has before peeling off her drenched clothing, finishing drying off, getting dressed again, and putting on the fluffiest pair of socks she could find. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She then gathers her wet stuff, towel included, and makes her way past the kitchen, to the laundry room; brewing some chamomile tea after dumping the stuff in the hamper. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She hands a mug of the comforting beverage to Serge, who had also just finished drying off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I still can’t believe we met the Red Hood,” he whisper-yells as he takes the mug and lifts it to his lips. “I know they say he's built, but jeez, he’s huge!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I almost got whiplash from trying to get a good look at him.” Charlie agrees, shakily walking over to the thermostat to raise the temperature; sneezing as she went.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wonder what he looks like under there.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm.” Charlie thoughtfully takes a sip from her mug.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’d better head out,” Serge says, finishing off his tea. “Thanks for letting me dry off, and for the tea.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t forget to take an umbrella.” Charlie responds, retrieving one from the storage closet and handing it to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gives a small smile of gratitude and replaces his mug with it before bidding her a good night and heading out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yawning, she puts the mugs down to lock the door before turning to her passed out friend and gently nudging her awake.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon, wake up-” she whispers, “You gotta get out of those clothes. Otherwise, you’re gonna catch a hell of a cold.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A few sounds of protests answer her before she goes back to the kitchen and returns with a couple of pans, which she bangs together right by Morgan’s ears, startling her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Go get changed.” Charlie says, ignoring the scowl that she was currently being given. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She returns the pans to their rightful places and washes the mugs before grabbing a couple of blankets from the storage closet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’d finally set up the couch to sleep when she remembered her bruised knuckles. Sighing, she makes her way to the kitchen once more to make a bag of ice before going to the bathroom to get some pain medication from behind the medicine closet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just as she begins to relax on the couch, Morgan plops down next to her, now wearing a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt that she had left a couple weeks ago, and rests her head on Charlie’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened to your hand.” She asks in a monotone voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Got in a fight with a bunch of dickheads.” Charlie answers in the same tone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm. Kicked their asses?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d look a lot worse if I didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought I heard a gunshot.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You thought you’d heard a gun go off and still slept?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan lifts her head to give her a look before resting it once more. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fair enough,” Charlie says, still monotone. “It was just Red Hood.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She closes her eyes and yawns.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously?!” Morgan exclaims, lifting her head in shock.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup.” Charlie answers calmly, eyes still closed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tall as hell.” She mutters the last part as she begins to lay down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” Morgans exclaims, tapping her urgently. “You can’t just tell me something like that and then go to sleep!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodnight.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll tell you in the morning.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But I’ll be kept up all night thinking about it!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Too bad.” Charlie mutters, drifting off. In no time, she had passed out, leaving Morgan alone.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, kudos and comments are more than welcome!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 3: Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The somewhat boring day after.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>**Disclaimer**</p>
<p>I don't know how to write engineering or sciencey stuff...so that's out there.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sun had just risen when Morgan exited the room she had slept in, stumbled towards the occupied couch, and roughly sat on her still sleeping best friend. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Get off.” Charlie drawls, her voice muffled by the pillow and covers</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sniffed as if to try and clear her nose.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not until you tell me what happened last night.” Morgan croaks, pinching the bridge of her nose to try and suppress her raging headache.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I will when you get off and let me get some breakfast.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just then, as if subconsciously summoned, a knock sounds through the apartment, prompting Morgan to clutch her head in pain and get up to answer the door. On the other side stood a barely awake Lucie with a medium sized plastic bag and a cup holder bearing three cups of lattes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, thank God.” Morgan sighs, grabbing a cup and letting Lucie in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Woah, what happened to you guys?” Lucie asks as she closes the door behind her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Too many drinks.” Morgan mutters, taking a sip and sitting down at the counter.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Got in a fight in the rain.” Charlie yawns before sniffing again and sluggishly getting up to join them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry. Only got bruised knuckles.” Charlie responds, grabbing one of the other cups. “What’s in the bag?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Breakfast.” Lucie says, tentatively, as she buries her hand in said bag to retrieve the breakfast sandwiches inside while staring her friends down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tosses one to Charlie before sliding another to Morgan and grabbing one for herself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You gonna tell me what happened...or…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Morgan says, poking Charlie’s side while doing so.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie holds up a finger to her friends as she unwraps, then takes a bite out of her sandwich. Sausage, egg, and cheese; just how she liked it. She finishes chewing, swallows, then gazes at her attentive friends wearily.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We left the club as it was raining, Morgan was hammered and about to pass out, so I took us to the alley next to the club to wait as Serge went to get the truck. All of a sudden, these fuckin' creeps come outta nowhere, so I start slugging them. As I was beating his buddy, one of them pulls out a knife-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And that’s when Red Hood showed up!” Morgan interrupts.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie lazily raises her eyebrows at this and slowly blinks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Red Hood was there?!” Lucie interjects, earning a look from Charlie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“-Yeeaah,” she drawls, “He shot the guy who was gonna stab me in the wrist, or something.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did he talk to you after that, or.” Morgan asks, leaning closer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What was he like?” Lucie joins her, eyes wide.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie blinks in surprise before continuing, “Um, well, he was tall. Tall as hell-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Or maybe you’re just ridiculously short.” Morgan interrupts, earning another look from Charlie. “Sorry. Go on.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway...he was really tall and his helmet masked his voice. That’s all I can tell you since it was raining and I couldn’t see much.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, what did he say to you?” Lucie asks, at the edge of her seat. This earns another, confused look from Charlie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-something about alleyways being dangerous here, and keeping me owing him in mind.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two women gape in shock at their friend who had resumed her sandwich and was nearly done.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?!” They all but screech at the same time. Morgan purses her lips and frogs Charlie as Lucie resumes gaping at her, wide-eyed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ow, what the hell?!” Charlie exclaims, raising her voice for the first time that day.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You! You!” Morgan shrieks, beginning to freak out a little. “You. Flirted. With. A. Vigilante. And. Expected. Me. To. Learn. About. It. The. Next. Day?!” Each break is punctuated by a harsh slap on the shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Ow.” Charlie responds, massaging her shoulder and pouting. “We didn’t flirt! That wasn’t flirting.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, bull!” Lucie interjects after a beat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha-It’s the truth!” Charlie exclaims, arms outstretched with her palms up, as if to say, ‘What the hell?!’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The women turn away from her, pouting, and finish their breakfast.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Charlie says after rolling her eyes at her friends’ childishness, “How was your night, Lucie?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I didn’t flirt with a vigilante, that’s for sure.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon, don’t be like that. Don’t make this weird.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucie huffs and side-eyes Charlie before turning to face her. “How’s your hand?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” Charlie looks down at the aforementioned extremity. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The swelling on the knuckles had gone down and they went back to their normal shade of brown. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine. It got pretty bruised from kicking all that ass. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A smirk finds its way onto her face as she remembered all the punches she landed last night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, my night was boring. No fist fights, no vigilantes, not even an idiotic frat boy with something jammed up his ass.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That's...odd.” Charlie says, genuinely surprised.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---1 Hour Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was nice to ride without Morgan clawing into her back and screaming into her ear. The aforementioned individual had decided to stay at the apartment; as she was rolling her motorcycle out, Morgan was channel surfing and talking smack about reality TV stars.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She barely notices the weight of her computer bag slung across her shoulder. She pulls into her workshop just as the hands on her watch read 12. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Serge says, entering the space after having heard the sounds of Charlie pulling out parts and tools, “Guess what I found?” He pulls her phone out of his pocket and hands it to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy crap,” Charlie says, wide eyed, as she takes it. “Thanks! Where’d you find it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Under the passenger seat of the truck.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, man, thanks!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She pulls out her emergency phone charger from her computer bag, plugs it into the nearest outlet near her laboratory bench, and hooks her phone up to charge.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what’s on the agenda today?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hopefully, something that’ll blow your mind.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serge gives her a lopsided smile before going back to the front, leaving Charlie to play ‘Kashmir’ on her laptop, crack open her journals, and get to work. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>First was the programming/coding; thanks to the two journals, and her brain, it went by in a breeze.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then came the disassembling of her watch and soldering and whatnot of the essential metals, wires, and circuits. After a while, the reassembling began; first, the modified lever/main plate. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you like my assistance,Miss?” A toneless, yet modulated, female voice sounds from the computer. It was the A.I. that she had finally created through her dad’s and her research and data.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, no thanks-what’s your name?” Charlie says with a small grin on her face while continuing her work, pausing only to look up when asking the A.I.’s name.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that is up to you, I think.” The A.I. responded as Charlie went back to work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How about...Nebula?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A superb name, Miss.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure? I don't wanna stick you with a name you actually hate.” Charlie says, once more pausing her work to absorb herself in the conversation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I assure you, Miss, I am quite fond of the name you have given me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie nods tentatively, “Okay. Well-”, she starts working again, “It's nice to meet you, Nebula. I'm Charlotte. But you can call me Charlie.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Charlie.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just Charlie's fine.” Charlie says in a restrained tone. Being called ‘miss’ reminded her a little too much of the life she'd left behind; or more like, the life that had her locked up like Harry freakin’ Potter for 7 years of her life just because she was different.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I'd prefer to call you Miss.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie once more pauses her work to give the computer/A.I. a tired look before closing her eyes and heaving a quick sigh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” she relents. “As long as it's Charlie and not Jones.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie could sense that if the A.I. had a face, it'd be smiling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After about an hour, Charlie straightens herself and stares at the fully reassembled watch in anticipation; as if she was waiting for it to come alive, or something.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright Nebula, let's see what kind of geniuses my dad and I are.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With that, Charlie pushes the watch’s crown and crosses her fingers. A holographic computer screen springs out from the glass; with a large, lopsided grin and a small chuckle, she pokes at one of the icons being displayed. At her touch, six more take its place; she makes a motion as if to spread them out. The next thing she knew, she was grinning wildly in the middle of a room filled with interactive holographic projections.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Nebula, it only took two journals, 31 years, and 4 hours, but we did it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Congratulations, Miss Charlie. This is quite the accomplishment.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A couple of many to come.” Charlie responds breathlessly, staring at and fiddling with the projections; tapping and expanding, swiping left and right, opening new windows and whatnot. “So, what do you think we should do next?” She mutters absentmindedly while going over to her laptop.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Miss Charlie, what else did you want to accomplish with your father?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie hums thoughtfully, “Well, making sure that you’re operating at your full capacity should probably take top priority, don't ya think?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She makes a closing gesture as she speaks and everything goes back into the watch; she then pulls the crown and sits down to work. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie finally exits the workshop at 11 pm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As she makes a quick detour to a nearby donut shop; she could have sworn she saw a couple figures on top of one of the buildings she passed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Afterwards, after finally getting home, she plugs her phone to charge and collapses onto her bed; immediately passing out as soon as her head hits the mattress.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>--2 weeks later--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s been 8 hours since she arrived at her workshop, ‘Kashmir’ was yet again blaring from the newly brought speakers, holographic projections were everywhere, and she was hunched over her work; her hair messily tied back and her safety glasses gently slipped down the bridge of her nose. She pushes them back up with the back of her wrists.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How are we doing with those schematics there, Neb?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything looks to be running in accordance; we are functioning incredibly well.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie smirks, “That’s what I like to hear. Care to order something for us to eat? I’m thinking...pizza?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“An excellent idea, Miss Charlie. Especially since you have not eaten since breakfast.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing gets past you, huh.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid not, miss.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie lets out a small chuckle and absorbs herself in her work; gently singing along to ‘Kashmir’ as she forgot everything except the song and the work she was doing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss, I feel like this is a wonderful time for you to go home now.” Nebula chimes about thirty minutes after their break.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh it’s just 11 o’clock, Neb. I’m almost done, just give me a few more minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss, the traffic suggests that you would not get home until around 30 minutes after midnight if you stay here any longer. Not to mention, I believe there are some unsavory individuals afoot.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Like who?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“From what I can tell from the street cameras, it is Mr. Ventriloquist this evening.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie grunts in response. “Alert the police and anyone in the area, please. Anonymously.” </span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, miss.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 4: Hello Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucie kinda saves the day and Charlie says something she probably, shouldn't have; and then proceeds to do something she definitely shouldn't have.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>**Disclaimer**</p>
<p>Again, don't know how to write scientific stuff or things that deal with coding, so I'm just playing everything by ear.</p>
<p>Also, this chapter is kinda long, so there's that.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>--One Month Later--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The patter of rain on the window almost lulls Charlie to sleep as she relaxes on her couch; a mug of coffee nestled in her hands, a fleece throw strewn across her lap and shoulder, a plate of cookies on the table, and Lana Del Rey playing throughout the apartment. Suddenly, a loud bang sounds outside her window, on the fire escape. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Startled, Charlie jumps from the couch, sets her coffee down, and rushes to the window where she could see a large mass lying in her fire escape.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Without thinking, she pushes the curtains aside, opens the window and drags the mass, which turned out to be a passed out Red Hood, into the apartment. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing she notices is the wounds on his sides and giant arms; then, the fact that his helmet was cracked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a good amount of effort, she hauls him onto the couch before closing the window and rushing out to Lucie’s.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wrestling the helmet and his boots off was harder than Charlie expected, and everything else, especially the stitching, was somewhat tiring; but soon enough, the man lay bandaged and covered on the couch, still knocked out, as Charlie put his shirt and socks in the washer. Lucie gives her a small look and nudges her as she leaves with her first aide equipment in towe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks younger than she expected; about only a year older than her, or so, and looks as if he was sculpted out of marble. His jawline looks like it can cut diamonds, and his cheekbones are just as sharp; his semi-curly locks that lazily hangs all throughout his head and over his forehead were black, except for one patch in the front that's white. His nose, although it looks as if it had been broken several times, is nice and his eyelashes are straight and long. And, she couldn’t help but notice, he actually has lips. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In other words, he's probably one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. And...familiar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She shakes her head to clear her thoughts, and goes to get more blankets from the storage and one of her bigger shirts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was still passed out on the couch when she made her way to the kitchen to heat up some breakfast and make coffee later that morning. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But evidently not for long, as a groan and stirring on the couch some time after she had begun, promptly grabbing her attention. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Soon enough, his head pops over the back of the couch; his face is scrunched in confusion as he looks around, unfamiliar with his surroundings. Eventually, his teal-blue eyes (with hints of a green that was so enchanting, she almost lost her breath) land on her and she gives him a small, somewhat awkward, smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mornin’” she says gently after a beat. “Coffee?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sluggishly gets up and groggily shuffles towards her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Your shirt and socks are in the dryer. They’re almost done.” She says as she reaches up to grab him a mug. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks.” he responds, his voice tense and a deep with sleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Cream? Sugar?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, no thanks.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She hands the now steaming mug to him; which he takes as he sits down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“D’ya want a crossainwhich or something?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah-sure.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After about 30 minutes of silence and exchanged glances as they ate, the dryer finally buzzed, indicating that the articles of clothing are finished. Charlie quickly gets up to get them while he goes to put the dishes in the sink and mumbles a quick thanks as she hands him his now freshly dried clothes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No offense, or anything, but isn’t your whole thing supposed to be not getting your ass kicked?” Charlie asks as he replaces the shirt she had put on him while he was knocked out with his own.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His head snaps up to her in shock; his sharp eyebrows raised. She shifts a little and purses her lips before looking off to the side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry.” She whispers with a grimace.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your name, again?” He asks, slight amusement dripping in his voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Charlie. You?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gives her a small grin before extending a hand for her to shake. “Jason.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She takes his hand, returning his grin. It envelops hers; not in an awkward way, but in one that kind of comforted her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Your helmet’s pretty messed up, by the way.” She gestures to the aforementioned object, which was currently resting on the table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah...it does that sometimes.” he responds, looking at it with a tired expression.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s gotta suck.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This earns a chuckle and a nod.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I gotta-y’know,” Charlie awkwardly points off to her side, “soo...yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Yeah, well I should-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They awkwardly go their separate ways; Jason, out the window while putting on his helmet, and Charlie, to her room to change into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie while also putting on her watch and grabbing her phone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Afterwards, she checks the windows and the stove before putting on her boots, grabbing her laptop, and walking Maurice out; locking the door behind her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---20 Minutes Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie parks Maurice and bounds towards her workshop; a million ideas running through her head at a thousand miles a second.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, buddy.” Charlie greets the robot she made a week ago as it rolled towards her almost excitedly; it was more like an assembling robot that you’d find in a car factory, but with wheels so it could move around. Since it felt a bit human to her, she couldn’t help but to feel a certain way when it, lovingly dubbed Poi-d, would come to greet her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Excited, she makes her way over to her lab bench, sets her laptop down after plugging it to the outlet, and turns it on. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“May I say, you were adorable this morning, Miss Charlie?” Nebula says as soon as the screen turns on. She had been active all morning, but figured it would be better to say something when it was just them. “The two of you would make a cute couple.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, c’mon, Neb.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m simply stating the facts.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, while you’re stating the facts, could you do me a favor and order me some 7xxx series alloy, please?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, for Mr.Jason’s new helmet?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie sighs, “You know me too well. And if you could play some Zeppelin on a loop-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kashmir, miss?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Always.” Charlie responds, taking off her hoodie. She then puts her hair up and goes to put on her safety glasses.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We should expect the delivery to arrive by noon tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Great, thanks.‘Till then, let’s get some work done.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>--One Week Later--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sparks fly from metal as Zeppelin blares from the speakers; cans of Redbull and granola bar wrappers litter her workspace along with holographic projections of data and blueprints.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How’re we looking with those algorithms and schematics, Neb?” Charlie asks as she flits around the workspace.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything seems to be functional, miss.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing’s gonna blow up this time?” She asks, stopping to peer up at a projected hologram.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not. Your updated calculations predict this one to function as flawlessly as yours.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fingers crossed.” She whispers, activating the latest model of the Red Hood helmet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not only does it not blow up, but the metallic glass even lights up a little. A breathy chuckle escapes her now widely grinning mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Congratulations, miss. Another successful project.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks to you, Neb.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re too generous, miss.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just calling the facts.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The next night, Charlie stares at the freshly painted helmet while drinking some Redbull. ‘Should I Stay or Should I Go’ blasts from the speakers with Poi-D wheeling around in the back; the room is filled with holographs of data and notifications.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you think we should do next, Neb?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I believe the data for the security systems have been fully rendered. We can begin conducting prototypes, if you want.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, let’s do it!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Poi-D rolls to one of the fire extinguishers that were strewn around the space and picks it up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Attaboy.” Charlie mutters as she readies her materials and tools.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>--6 Days Later--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Neb, how are those cheesy potatoes looking?” Charlie says as she cuts some cucumbers on her wooden chopping block. A large, metal bowl of cut lettuce and cherry tomatoes rest on the counter next to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The optimal time to take them out would be in 30 minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The ham?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Reaching the desired effects.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what I like to hear. Thanks, Neb.” Charlie responds, gently shoving the cucumbers off of the chopping board and into the bowl with her knife.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It seems that Miss Grace, Miss Gancino, and Mr. Carmillo have arrived.” Nebula says just as a knock sounds on the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Neb.” Charlie says, walking over to the door and opening it to reveal the smiling faces of her friends, “Hey guys, come on in.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Something smells good!” Lucie exclaims as she strides in, holding a baking container.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah!” says Morgan, holding a bottle of sparkling grape juice by its neck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Was someone else supposed to join us? Or did you order something yesterday and are heating it up now?” teased Serge, who had brought some bread rolls. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This earns a small punch on his shoulder, courtesy of Charlie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut your pie-hole!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So which one is it?” Morgan asks, snickering.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Neither! Dicks!” Charlie takes their things and sets them on the counter. “Why can’t you guys be more like Lucie?!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Cause we're not your tenants?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie feigns offense as Serge and Morgan snort in laughter.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A couple hours later, the four of them lounge on her couch, rubbing their stomachs and falling asleep. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Lucie, I swear I would sell my soul to get your Tres Leches recipe.” Serge says, before groaning, then yawning.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie couldn’t hear anything else as she drifted off; her stomach full of good food and the great mood providing comfort that she’d always wanted for years.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>--Two Weeks Later--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ride to the bank was shorter than what she’d expected; considering the fact that she was riding on icy roads, and therefore went slower than usual. The frosty air would have fogged up the glass of her helmet if it weren’t for the modifications she made. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The snow on the ground crunches under her boots as she gets off her bike and makes her way to the entrance of the bank; the tip of her nose and her cheeks flush as the cold air hits them once she takes off her helmet and places them on the bike. She quickly puts some quarters in the parking meter and strides to the entrance of the bank; gingerly removing her gloves once inside.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, I called earlier? I wanted to check on my safe?” She states politely as soon as she reaches the help desk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah yes, Miss Jones, correct?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. If you could wait in the lounge, please, and someone will be with you shortly.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It takes about five minutes for her to be serviced and check her stuff. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>However, something seemed off when she returned to the front to get in line for the tellers and her instincts proved correct when, all of a sudden, a ‘get down’ was heard throughout the space. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There were three of them; all wearing ski masks and black, all yelling at people at the top of their lungs, and all of them annoying Charlie. The leader held a handgun and kept shooting at the ceiling while his buddies headed towards the tellers’ counter. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Get down.” The leader growls to her, as she was the only one who was still standing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Charlie responds, annoyed and a bit tired. Everyone was tired.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man angrily aims his gun just a few inches away from her head. “Get. Down.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie slightly tilts her head, gives a bored look, and closes the distance with her hands in her pockets; resting her forehead on the muzzle. Just as he was going to pull the trigger, a crack breaks the silence and the man goes down, screaming and clutching his wrist as he writhed on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell?!” Came Jason’s modulated voice as he appeared in full gear in front of her. His gun was still smoking and breathing seemed irregular. “What were you thinking?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t just him this time; Robin and Nightwing took down the others. Police sirens could be heard coming down the street as her fellow patrons began getting back up and dusting themselves off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie shrugs as Nightwing approaches them. “Good thing you have great timing, huh, pretty boy.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just as he began saying something else, her phone vibrated. She didn’t even need to look at it to tell that it was Morgan, asking where she was as they'd agreed to meet up what would now be 10 minutes ago.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, as fun as getting chewed out is, I gotta go.” She says, slowly walking backwards.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nightwing opens his mouth to say something as Jason crosses his arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for not letting me get shot!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And with that, she turns around and speed walks out of the bank, puts on her helmet, and takes off in the direction of the mall; completely conscious of the trios eyes on her the whole time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fu-where were you?” Morgan says as soon as Charlie approaches her in the food court, where she had been waiting at a table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Charlie says, sitting down across from her friend, “There was a goings on at the bank.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Supervillian, or just some dick trying to rob the place?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dicks. Plural. There were three of them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Police stop them? Or-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Red Hood, Nightwing, and Robin. They must’ve been out together, or something. Otherwise, it’d be weird as hell for three Bats to take down three petty robbers.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan nods, “So how’s your boyfriend? And what does Nightwing’s ass look like?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie slacks her shoulders and gives her a look. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“First, he’s not my boyfriend. He just keeps me from being killed by my hubris. Second, didn’t have time to look; hell, I didn’t even have time to be chewed out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“-For what.” Morgan growls out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not gonna tell you; you’ll hit me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This earns a frown and glare from Morgan.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Listen, can we just go shopping like we planned and end the day in front of the t.v. with mugs of hot cocoas in our hands and plates of cookies on our laps? You know-the way God intended?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan rolls her eyes and gets up, earning a cheeky, closed-lipped smile from Charlie, who then followed suit.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>--8 hours later--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Neb, what’s tomorrow looking like?” Charlie asks, having just finished washing the last of the dishes and placing it on the drying rack.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You, Mr. Carmillo, and Miss Grace have an arrangement to go Christmas Tree shopping for your apartments.” Nebula answers as Charlie yawns and stretches before making her way to her bedroom.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Neb. Lights out, please. Good night.” Charlie says, dressing into her pajamas and climbing under her covers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good night, Miss.” Nebula responds, doing as she’s asked.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, kudos and comments are welcome!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 5: Ho, Ho, Ho and a Can of Redbull</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Christmas Bonding</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you're reading this, then that means that the past chapters didn't deter you, so thank you and I hope you enjoy this one!</p>
<p>As usual, no beta</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was a good thing they had decided to celebrate Christmas a couple days early; since Poison Ivy was feeling as festive as Harley Quinn. While Charlie thought they were kind of a cute couple, she found their antics really annoying. Still, by the end of Christmas Eve, they had settled down (and by settle down, I mean they were stopped by the Bats), so Charlie decided to celebrate in the best way that she knew how; by riding down to her workshop and being with Poi-D and Nebula. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, she didn’t notice the tall figure on top of one of the buildings she passed, who then noticed her and followed her to make sure she wouldn’t get herself killed. So, she nearly threw her eggnog at him when he appeared in her peripheral vision as she was giving Poi-D his gift (which was basically a good oiling).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” she mutters as she lowers her arm and relaxes, “I thought you were a creep or something. Eggnog?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Thanks.” He responds, slowly walking towards her and looking around.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I also have Redbull.” Charlie says before taking a swig from her cup.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s this?” He says, spotting her version of his helmet before picking it up and looking back at her inquisitively.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I figured that you’d want a helmet that wasn’t basically made out of plastic-” she gestures to the helmet in his hand, “This is actually great; ‘cause I have no idea how I’d get it to you otherwise.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He pauses. “You made this?” He asks, gesturing to her with it before looking it over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nods. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I actually made four of them, but the other three blew up-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tenses as Poi-D goes to pick up a fire extinguisher. “Wait, no!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She goes to stop him, but was too late and was soon covered in white Carbon Dioxide foam. Defeated, she looks down at her cup; now covered in/ filled with white.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My ‘nog.” She pouts, not paying attention to the small chuckle that came from Jason as she wiped the stuff off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sensing that he had displeased her, Poi-D makes a sad sound and lowers himself in shame. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, buddy. You did great!” Charlie says upon noticing this. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To convince him, she gives a thumbs up and a small smile. “Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At this, Poi-D cheers up, giving her a happy beep and rolling around in a circle before going off somewhere. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She goes back to getting the stuff off of her skin, only stopping when she felt Jason’s hand brushing the top of her head; his closeness and smell makes her cheeks heat up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” she says as she looks up, “I’m surprised he didn’t get you.” She looks him over; not finding even a speck of white on him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I was raised to have good reflexes.” He responds softly; unaware of the fact that his hand was still on her head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Realizing this, he clears his throat and removes it; once more focusing his attention to the helmet in his other hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you made this.” He repeats, looking it over as he made his way to lean on her work-desk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup,” she responds, awkwardly shifting on her feet with her hands behind her back, “Wanna try it out?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason pauses before removing his helmet and domino mask. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you make it with?” He questions as he put her’s on and the hydraulics hiss.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Zinc-aluminum alloy and metallic glass. Durable as hell and won’t crack under pressure, but also relatively lightweight.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. You put an A.I. in here?” He questions, looking around.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Makes stuff easier.” Charlie shrugs before going to throw her tainted cup away and grabbing a Redbull from the mini-fridge before going to sit on the desk next to him. “You gonna give them a name?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How about, Delphi?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They like it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup.” He responds, slightly chuckling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie slowly nods before opening the can and taking a sip. “Like the Oracles of Delphi, right? That’s cool.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks-” he mutters, taking the helmet off and looking at her. “How did you get my measurements? It fits perfectly.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie shrugs, “Just an educated guess.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She takes another sip of Redbull; not noticing the awed look he was giving her. What she did notice, however, was the lopsided grin that graced his face as he looked back at the helmet in his hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” she says, nudging him with her shoulder, “Merry Christmas. And thanks for keeping me from getting killed.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His grin widens as he nods. “Thanks.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks down at the helmet before looking back up at her, “ And you’re welcome. Which reminds me-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie grimaces and looks down, already knowing what subject he had latched onto.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell were you thinking at the bank that day? You could’ve been killed!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know-and I’m sorry.” She says softly while tucking her hair behind her ear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gives her a look as if to say, ‘I’m waiting.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” She says with her head down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason crosses his arms and sighs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t. I just-I guess I just get really bullheaded. And I have poor self-preservation skills."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She looks back up at him, purses her lips, and tries to keep from blushing when he looks intensely into her eyes before searching the rest of her face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He closes his eyes before looking towards the ceiling and sighing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s getting late,” he pushes himself off the desk and faces her, “let’s get you home.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.” she responds before grinning and standing up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They put on their helmets, she her jacket, and head out. As they reach her bike, she notices that she doesn’t have her keys.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, crap.” She mutters, feeling around her pockets.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Looking for these?” Jason asks, holding them up and jingling them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, thanks.” She says as he sits and slips the keys in the ignition. Slightly blushing, she sits behind him and gently clutches the back of his jacket.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And don’t worry, I locked up for you.” He says softly, kicking off stand and revving the engine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” She says, holding onto his sides and resting more on his back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As they rode, it felt as if time stood still or as if they were standing in place and the area around them changed; like they were in front of a green screen. Charlie silently thanked God that it was winter, and that it was night, since she wouldn’t be embarrassed by the massive heat in her cheeks when she took her helmet off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly, I’m kinda surprised you remember where I live.” Charlie says in a small voice; taking her helmet off as they pull up to her building and dismount. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He simply shrugs as he walks the bike up the sidewalk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After going up the flights of stairs, they finally reach her apartment number; as Charlie turns to ask for her keys, she notices that Jason had been carrying her bike the entire time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before she could say anything, Jason wordlessly hands her her keys and gently sets her bike down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” she says, taking them, “You wouldn’t want to come in, have some cookies and cocoa, would you?” She unlocks the door and opens it before turning to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.Thanks.” He says after a beat before walking the bike in after her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t know why it felt so natural when she handed him a mug of whipped cream ladden hot cocoa with a peppermint stick in it as he lounged on the couch; as if him sitting comfortably, with one arm draped across the back, and his new helmet resting on the table next to the plate of festive cookies was something that happened nightly. The feeling struck even more as she sits next to him and offers him the remote, which he gently takes before switching the t.v. on. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They didn’t realize how much time had passed until Charlie let out a small yawn.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Upon seeing this, and checking the time, Jason turns off the t.v., puts the mugs and plate in the sink, ushers her to her room while saying goodnight, and takes his leave out the window. As soon as he does, the lights go off.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading! ❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 6: Auld Lang Same</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Another holiday bonding chapter.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Could I have combined this chapter and last chapter? Maybe...</p>
<p>But I didn't. So...yeah.</p>
<p>Anyways, thanks for reading!</p>
<p>As usual, no beta.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Like hell I’m going.” Charlie says as she washes the dishes in the sink. They had just finished dinner when Morgan sprang a New Years party ‘invite’ on her. And ‘invite’ usually meant mandatory attendance when it came to Morgan.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck no.” Charlie says, finishing the last dish and turning to face her while leaning back on the sink’s counter. “I am not dressing up in some tight-ass dress with some high-ass heels surrounded by people who’ll keep asking me why I’m not drinking and what I do for a living. Not to mention the stares for my hair...”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“As opposed to sitting in your workshop alone with your robot?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“-Yes!” Charlie says after a beat, “Do you not know me?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan groans and rolls her eyes. “You’re going.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie pouts before throwing her head back while groaning and trudging to the couch.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---Several Hours Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. My. God. You look so good!” Morgan exclaims as Charlie steps out of her room in a black, sleeveless bodycon dress with black pumps. She had slightly straightened her now slightly longer hair and put on eyeliner and a deep red lipstick; of course she wore her watch proudly on her wrist.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Feel like I’m supposed to be firing a few hundred people and insulting my employees.” Charlie mutters as she shifts her weight on her feet and looks down at her outfit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why can’t I wear pants, again?” She asks, slightly scrunching her nose.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because,” Morgan answers as she links her arms with Charlie’s and leads her towards the door, where their coats were waiting. “I said so.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie sighs, grabs her coat before making sure that her phone was in one of the pockets, and makes sure to lock the door behind them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She hated parties. Always had; ever since her mother would parade her around in some fluffy, itchy dress while people would gawke at her and her siblings would give her death glares. And now, here she was once again, surrounded by people she barely knew but who reminded her too much of her old life and basically all alone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then, there were the business majors from Princeton, or something, that had been staring at her for longer than she would’ve liked. And while she was about three seconds away from punching them both in the face, the passive-aggressive looks from some of the women in attendance kept her at bay.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is bullshit.” Charlie mutters as she watches Morgan chat away with one of those judgemental bitches that were side-eyeing her earlier. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She takes this opportunity to discreetly make her way to the coat rack, and leave. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She almost slipped sixteen times as she shuffled down the sidewalk; her hands clenched in her coat pockets as she huddled it closer to her shivering body. Her cheeks and the tips of her ears and nose stung thanks to the cold air; tiny sniffles escaped her as she walked. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa, what are you doing out here like this?” A familiar voice calls from the street.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” Charlie responds, stopping to look over at him. “What’s up?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was dressed in his usual uniform, save for the helmet she had given him, which was now resting on his motorcycle that he was currently dismounting. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the first time she’d had seen him take his helmet off in public; his cheeks and nose were already beginning to redden as he walked towards her, looking at her as if she’d grown a second head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was just escaping this crappy party-” She continued once he stopped in front of her, as she figured that he’d want an answer to his question before they both froze to death.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He quirks an eyebrow at this and gives her a dumbfounded look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d seriously rather freeze to death than be at a party?” He responds in a toneless voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” She points a shaking finger at him, “you weren’t there.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She returns her hand into her pocket and looks down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He lets out a small scoff and looks away before looking back at her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So where to?” He asks before walking back to his bike to lean on it while facing her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My workshop, please.” She responds cheerily, as her head snaps up before shuffling towards him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If it weren’t for her coat, her butt would’ve frozen to the seat since she had to keep both legs on one side. And then there was the fact that she had to keep her head down while resting it on his back and hugging his waist tightly as they rode; not even the frosty air made her cheeks warm up so much.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as they walk in and she switches on the lights, Poi-D rushes to her, whirring happily. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, buddy!” She says, grinning widely and patting him before taking off her coat as the area was beginning to warm up, thanks to Nebula. “How’re ya doing?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He answers with a beep and a swivel, causing her to let out a small laugh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well it’s great to hear that.” She responds, walking over to her work-desk to set her coat down and grab a Redbull; nonverbally offering one to Jason, which he accepted, before eventually making her way to the back to grab some New Years party favors. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Charlie says as they lean on her work-desk, side-by-side, holding their cans of Redbull, plastic New Year’s party hats on their heads, “What are your resolutions for this year?” She takes a sip from her can before looking at him expectantly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The corner of his lips tug upward in a half smile, “I don’t know-shoot more criminals? Read more books? You?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She shrugs, “Build more stuff, I guess. Probably try not to get myself killed.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He lets out an amused huff.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you do that?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What, nearly get myself killed? Or try not to get myself killed? ‘Cause both of them have something to do with my hardheadedness.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” He says in an amused voice, “Although, yeah. But I was talking more along the lines of you treating me like I’m an old friend, or something. I mean, we just met a few weeks ago. Plus, I kinda shoot people-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie shrugs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “A lot of people saw my dad as this genius powerhouse that could buy out their families and my mom as this benevolent angel.” She slightly rolls her eyes at the thought. “But what they didn’t see, was my dad freak out when he accidentally set a can of soup on fire in his workshop or my mom literally any time there wasn’t some type of social event or company around. So, I guess I find it kinda hard to judge based on appearances. Besides, it’s not like you’re a serial killer or anything. You just shoot bad guys.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I actually used to kill them. Still do sometimes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She could sense him tense up next to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They usually have it coming, or something, though, right?” She looks back up at him; not a hint of judgement found on her face, in her eyes, or in her voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He tilts his head as if to say, ‘eh’.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well.There. Just don’t overdo it.” Charlie says, deciding to resume drinking her Redbull.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Could he?” Jason says after a while.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm?” Charlie’s head snaps up towards him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Could your dad buy out other people’s families?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie shrugs. “If he really wanted to. But he wasn’t that type of person.” She responds before finishing off her drink.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason nods thoughtfully. “What kind of person was he?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A small, somewhat sad, smile surfaces on Charlie’s face as all the memories flood in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He was…” She sighs, “He was amazing. Kind, patient, humble. Never looked down on someone because of what they didn’t know; instead, he would actually take the time to teach them. Always believed in helping people. Hated elitists. In fact, every time my mother threw some random party, he would sneak me out so we could look at the stars on the roof.” She says the last part in a soft voice as her eyes began to water.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for your loss.” Jason says in a gentle voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Charlie whispers before giving him another small smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There must’ve been a lot of people at his funeral. Y’know, since he was such a great guy.” Jason says, somewhat awkwardly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t know,” Charlie shrugged. “I wasn’t there.” She clenches her jaw.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom.” She says simply before pursing her lips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, what?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My mom locked me up beneath the staircase like Harry, freakin’, Potter. So I didn’t even know what was going on until I heard the voices above the floorboards.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s fucked up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Seven years of my life I'll never get back." She mumbles, unaware of his attention on her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jeez!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie simply nods as he bends his head in thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So...what about you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a long story.” He responds after a long pause.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie raises her eyebrows at this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“All I can really tell you is that I was born in Crime Alley and ended up getting adopted by Bruce Wayne when I was still a kid.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s he like? Y’know, as a dad?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason lets out a small scoff. “Complicated. Yours?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kind of a disaster. But, we were the only ones who actually enjoyed each other’s company. So most of my mannerisms, project ideas, and tastes in music are thanks to him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah? What’s your taste in music?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She scrunches her face in thought. “Classic Rock, Alternative Rock, Indie Rock, Disco Pop- stuff like that. You?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pretty much the same with some Pop and Hip-Hop/Rap mixed in.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. Interesting.” A small smirk appears on her face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please. I bet you secretly love ABBA, or something."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yeah. Everyone knows that ABBA is amazing.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.” He responds with a small laugh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever.” She says, with a small, lighthearted scoff while nudging him with her arm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just then, Poi-D wheels towards them, wearing a plastic New Years hat on his main joint and beeping frantically. He then swivels around in a circle upon reaching them and lifts himself up and down. Of course, Charlie can’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy New Year to you too, buddy.” She says, patting him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s like a little kid.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Charlie says with a large smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A deep vibration can be heard from the jackets.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s me.” Charlie says without checking as Jason went to his jacket. She knew that it was Morgan; she probably had finally realized that Charlie wasn’t there and was chewing her out via text.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shouldn’t you probably answer it, then?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...Nah. I’ll probably wait until I’m home.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Which reminds me, I should be getting you there right about now.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” Charlie grabs her coat and puts it on as he does the same before they head out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Next thing they knew, they were right in front of her apartment and she was unlocking the door. She pauses as she opens it and turns to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tonight was nice.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. It was.” He says softly as he gazes down at her; his helmet tucked under his arm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” She says in a gentle voice before lifting herself on the balls of her feet to give him a quick peck on his cheek and resuming her previous position. “Happy New Year.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy New Year.” He responds with a small grin which she returns as she steps inside before giving him a small wave and gently closing the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That was adorable, Miss Charlie.” Nebula says after a couple minutes of silence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy New Year to you too, Neb.” Charlie responds as she takes off her coat, grabs her phone out of the pocket as she hangs it up on the coat rack, sends out a quick ‘Happy New Year’ to her grandmother via morse code, and makes her way to her room to turn in for the night.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks again for reading! ❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 7: Friends and Neighbors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Small snippets of Jason and Charlie bonding over the weeks/months</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Honestly, I must've gone over this chapter, like, at least 10 times. So...yeah... Hopefully, you guys like it.</p><p>It's kinda long, but hey, what are ya gonna do?</p><p>There's some fluff</p><p>As usual, no beta</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Where the shit were you?” Morgan hisses as soon as Charlie opens the door before storming in and slamming the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“With a friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A friend? A friend?! So what the hell am I!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re my best friend, but you also kinda abandoned me at the party and I couldn’t stand all the stares. So I left and ended up running into a friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, so, let me get this straight. You went out. In the freezing cold. And by chance, ran into your friend... You could’ve died, you know that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s what he said, or more like implied.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He?! Who even is he? Do I know him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie purses her lips and looks to the side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How about some bacon and waffles!” Charlie says, snapping her eyes back up to Morgan, hoping to change the subject. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not even waiting for her friend’s answer, she speed walks to the kitchen to ready the supplies and cookware. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pouting, Morgan follows her and pinches her side as she begins cooking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ow, shit!” Charlie exclaims as she rubs the assaulted area and turns to give Morgan a look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still not talking, Morgan gives her a small glare while crossing her arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You kinda do. And he’s not a serial killer or a criminal, if that’s what you’re worried about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since her back was facing Morgan, she didn’t see the look she was being given, or the eye roll as Morgan walked over to the breakfast bar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as Morgan leaves to go home for the night, Charlie’s window opens; unsurprised, she turns her head towards it while grabbing a couple of chips from the Doritos bag that was resting on her lap as she lounged on the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Charlie says once Jason pokes his head in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” He responds as he finishes coming in and closing the window.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Chips?” She says, straightening herself and offering him the bag as he takes off his helmet and joins her on the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” He responds, removing his gloves and jacket before taking it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie gets up as he digs in and makes her way to the kitchen to grab more food.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want something to drink?” She opens the fridge and stares at the inside while leaning on the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you have?” He asks, spreading out on the couch and looking over the back at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Water, Apple Juice, Grape Juice, Root Beer, and Sprite.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Beer me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“M‘kay. Catch.” She grabs two cans of root beer and underhand tosses one to Jason, who catches it with ease, before joining him on the couch after dumping her spoils from the kitchen, except for her can of root beer, on the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since his legs were spread, she couldn’t sit cross-legged as usual, and opted for bringing her knees up to her chest and angling herself to face him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, how was your day?” She questions, drawing out the ‘so’, as she cracks open her can and sips from it before the foam could fizzle out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” he stretches his back before slumping back down and facing her with tired eyes. “Too much shit. And the criminals were kind of annoying, too. Most of them were petty robbers and muggers.” He cracks open his can.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie slowly nods before giving him one of those smiles that Caucasian people give each other on the street.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You?” He takes a sip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Got chewed out and pinched by my best friend. Which, now that I think about it, isn’t that bad; considering her mean streak.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why’d she chew you out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cause I left the party.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason hums.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you shouldn't have left the party.” He says with a smirk as he sips his beverage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This earns a snort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, no. I'd rather be pinched mercilessly for years than stay in that crap-fest."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wow. You weren't kidding about the stubbornness and lack of self-preservation, weren't you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nope. No I was not." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“By the way,” He says, setting his drink down and digging his hands in this pockets as she leans forward in attention, “I got you something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One hand leaves the pocket holding a small, but narrow, festively decorated box; complete with a silver bow that was semi smushed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Merry Christmas.” He holds it towards her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw, thanks!” She says, gently taking it and setting her drink down, too. “You didn’t have to! This is so sweet of you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She carefully opens it to find a silver, 5-in-1 ballpoint pen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy crap, this is so cool!” She exclaims, closely examining it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You like it?” He asks shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand while the other is draped across the back of the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nods feverishly, while grinning widely and looking down at the pen, before looking back up at him and giving him a grateful hug; his hands settle on her back after a couple seconds of shock, while her arms were linked around his neck. She gives a quick squeeze before letting go, sitting back, and giving him another wide grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unaware of the delighted look on Jason’s face, Charlie goes back to inspecting her gift.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where did you get it?” She questions in an excited and breathy voice while looking back at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just saw it in a store somewhere.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small tinge of pink had crept up his neck and cheeks and now took up residence on the tips of his ears as Charlie gave him another, shorter, hug and left the couch to put her gift on her bedside table before going back to the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but all she knows is that there’s a throw draped over her, her tv and lights are off, her table is clean, Jason’s helmet is no longer there, and her window was closed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr.Jason left about an hour ago.” Nebula explains with an amused tone in her voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Neb.” Charlie responds as she got up and stretched. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not a word.” She says before heading to her room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--One Week Later--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” Jason says as he takes off his helmet and cautiously enters the workshop with a bag of fast food.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He honestly doesn't know what he's doing here or when it got to this point, but he doesn't want to think too much about it, so in he goes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Kashmir’ was blaring over the speakers, making it nearly impossible for him to hear anything besides a couple of words exchanged between Charlie and Nebula. She was so hunched over her work that if he wasn’t following her voice, he would’ve never seen her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon hearing his arrival, Poi-D rushes to him, beeping happily. He grins and, before he knew what he was doing, greets the robot before making his way over to Charlie, who, from what he could see, was welding with a propane torch and intense concentration. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sleeves of her t-shirt were rolled up to her shoulders, showing off toned muscles; her face was obstructed by a simple, old fashioned welding helmet, her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and the back of her neck and arms were coated in a thin film of sweat. Holographic projections of calculations, data, and diagrams were lined up in front of her, along with one showing her progress. When she was not talking to what he guessed was Nebula, she sang along to the music as she worked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Curious, he sets his helmet down and stands behind her; the calculations in front of them seemed rather complicated and were scrolling in the air in a rather concerning speed. The pen he had given her was resting on an open journal on the lab bench next to a welding hammer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, she shuts off the torch, grabs the welding hammer, and straightens herself before holding the piece of metal down via clamp with one gloved hand and hammering away with the other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon getting the desired shape, she sets the hammer and piece down, before taking the helmet off and turning around to put it away; only to drop it as she jumped in shock upon seeing him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” He simply says as she sighs in relief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! What’s up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not much.” He looks around once more before focusing back on her and lifting the bag of fast food for her to see. “Hungry?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Starving.” She picks up her dropped helmet and puts it away as he takes a seat on her swivel chair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--Superbowl Sunday--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Just 30 more minutes.`` Charlie thought as she surveyed her surroundings.The tv was turned on to the sports channel, the table was covered with snacks and a cooler of beverages and frozen snacks sat next to it, and the temperature was a perfect 70 degrees fahrenheit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Satisfied, she retreats to her room to put on her oversized #15 jersey and NY Giants cap before making her way back to the living room just as Luciana and Serge knock on the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One hour later found the four of them were yelling at the tv; Charlie’s Brooklyn accent had made its appearance in full force, amusing Jason to no end. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Waht teh hell wa-dat?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--Another Hour Later--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go Big Blue!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wahtta ya doin’!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who even is dis ref?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie angrily gestures at the tv with a meatball sub in one hand and a full mouth while Jason looks at her with unbridled amusement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--An Additional Hour Later--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should’ve guessed you were a giant football fan.” Jason says, amused, as they clean up; Serge and Lucie had left earlier, not wanting to deal with the mess.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie snorts, “What, no. I just get overly excited, is all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enough to use a- Brooklyn? Accent?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad liked eating from one specific hot dog cart and sometimes the lab got too stuffy.” Charlie responds, shrugging.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--2 Weeks Later--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie flips through the channels, bored, as she lounges on the couch, upside down. It was Valentine's Day and, of course, all the fun stuff that she wanted to do were for couples; mainly the carnival that had a ‘couples get in free’ promotion. Normally, she’d pay for the ticket anyway and go on as many rides as she possibly can, but then she’d be surrounded by couples being all lovey-dovey; and that’d suck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her window opens and in comes Jason. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she says in a bored manner, not bothering to look away from the tv. “What’s up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not much. You?” He says, making his way to the couch and placing his motorcycle helmet on the table before plopping down on the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely nothing.” She responds in a bored tone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, the commercial for the carnival starts playing again. Annoyed, Charlie blows a raspberry and changes the channel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That looks like fun. You don’t wanna go?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes. But, no. Dude, it’s gonna be filled with stupid couples doing a bunch of dumb, couple-y things.” Charlie says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I mean, we could go while pretending to be a couple. Ya know, kill two birds with one stone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small grin breaks out on Charlie’s face as she quickly rights herself and faces Jason. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” A small twinkle settles in her eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Jason says, trying to be nonchalant. “It’ll be fun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her grin widens into a full-blown smile, “Okay! Let me go change.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>About 30 minutes, or so, later, Jason and Charlie park and dismount his bike, having reached their destination.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Charlie says as she takes off her helmet, “pancakes or waffles.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When you’re with someone special, do you do pancakes-” Charlie clasps her hands together and holds them up for Jason to see. “-Or waffles?” She keeps her hands where they were and simply intertwines her fingers while giving Jason a wide-eyed, expectant look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Um, waffles.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie gives a short nod before taking his hand and leading him to the ticket stand where they get their free wristbands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So...what do you wanna do first?” Charlie asks in a cheery voice, turning to Jason; slightly swinging her arm, forgetting that her hand was currently attached to his.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason shrugs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lady's choice.” He says smoothly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, thank you.” Charlie says before giving him a close-lipped, cheeky smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She curiously looks around a little before something eventually catches her eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about that?” She asks, pointing at the ‘Ring of Fire’ ride and giving Jason quizzical look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” He responds, almost blushing as Charlie’s slightly pouting mouth breaks into a large grin and they go off on their way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--1 hour later--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what next?!” Charlie asks, turning towards Jason as they leave yet another ride; well, for her it was more like skipped away from. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How about we grab something to eat?” Jason replies, a small grin finding its way onto his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie simply nods and grins in response; walking next to him with a pep in her step as they make their way to the nearest food truck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A couple minutes later, the duo is found sitting at a picnic table; Charlie sitting on the table and popping nuggets of deep fried mac and cheese into her mouth, her feet cutely tapping on the bench under them, while Jason sits by her feet with his elbow resting on her knee as he eats a bacon-wrapped turkey leg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s good?” Jason asks, taking a break from his food to gaze up at Charlie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nods feverishly in response, “Wanna try one?” She asks, offering the tray to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Thanks.” He takes one from the tray and pops it into his mouth. Almost instantly, he makes an involuntary surprised noise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right?!” Charlie says before eating the one in her other hand and looking around. She almost immediately notices a small crowd around a high striker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw. That’s too bad. Here, why don’t you grab a consolation prize?” She hears the overseer say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she says, gently shaking the knee that Jason’s elbow is currently resting on, “I’m gonna be right back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mm?” Jason asks as he looks up at her with a confused look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie places her tray down, gets up, and jogs towards the high striker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey there, little lady, step on up. Why don’tcha take a swing? Just five dollars for one of these fluffy animals!” The overseer says as soon as Charlie reaches the desired area. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She quickly pays her dues and tentatively takes the comically sized hammer, lifts it, and swings it down on the lever as if she were splitting wood. The puck quickly reaches the bell, to the shock of the overseer, and almost everyone else in the vicinity, and Charlie heads back to Jason with a large, stuffed golden retriever. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she says as she approaches him, practically skipping with her bounty in her arms. “Here.” She stretches out her arms with a triumphant grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason blankly looks at her with raised eyebrows. He had finished their food a while ago and was just calmly lounging as he waited for her to come back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s yours.” She gives it a small shake. “Y’know...to say thank you and everything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For what?” He mutters, tentatively taking the stuffed animal from her outstretched arms and gazing at it before looking back up at an overjoyed Charlie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie shrugs, “...For this.” She anxiously shifted her weight back and forth between her feet with her arms tucked behind her back. “Today’s been nice, and that’s mainly because of you. So, thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gives him a small smile while settling on one foot, the other casually rests behind it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason returns her smile, causing it to grow, and looks back down at the stuffed animal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon,” he says after a beat before getting up, grabbing her hand, and leading them away from the table; the animal tucked under his arm and Charlie slightly jogging to keep up with his long strides as they made their way to a game booth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--2 More Hours Later--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I still can’t believe you almost punched that puppet.” Jason says, chuckling, as they sat in the ferris wheel’s gondola with their pinkies interlocked. He grips his stuffed dog tighter as he resists the urge to sling his arm over her shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Charlie admonishes, turning away from the giant shark he had won her, and that was currently resting across her lap, to face him, her eyebrows furrowed. “In my defence, the phrase is ‘fight or flight’. Not my fault I utilise ‘fight’ more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason snorts and begins to make a snide comment, when he decides to let it go and rest his head on the back of the seat and close his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” Charlie asks, leaning forward a bit to get a better look at his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm? Yeah.” He says, opening an eye to answer her before closing it once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have patrol, or something, later?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yup.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And the Tilt-A-Whirl put you out a bit, earlier.” Charlie says softly, taking her hand away from her shark for her to rest her chin on her palm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please,” Jason snorts, his eyes still closed. “I've been through worse things than a Tilt-A-Whirl.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure you have,” Charlie responds with her head cocked and a smirk on her face. “which is why you didn’t nearly crush my hand and shift all of your body weight on me when we were exiting it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason sighs and opens his eyes to give her a look to which she responds with a shit-eating grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day ends, and Jason gently stops in front of her building and removes his helmet as she dismounts and removes hers before picking up her shark from her seat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Want me to hold on to that for you until your patrol’s done?” Charlie asks, nodding towards the stuffed dog that currently took up residence in front of Jason.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, no, thanks. I have to go get changed anyway.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie gives a small nod, “Well, thanks.” She swiftly gives him a peck on the cheek. “I had a lot of fun.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She walks to the door, quickly turning around about halfway there to make her shark salute to Jason before carrying on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--2 More Weeks Later--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason had just turned off his bike when Charlie came rushing out of her workshop and flung herself at him. Since he barely had time to brace himself, they crash to the ground; a small ‘oof’ escapes Jason’s mouth as his back hits the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did it!” Charlie exclaims, not missing a beat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, knocked the wind out of me?” Jason mutters as Charlie gets up off of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie feverishly shakes her head as she pulls him up off the ground and drags him towards the workshop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once they reach inside, Charlie lets go of his hand and goes to stand in the middle of the hologram-filled room; she swiftly turns around to face him once she reaches her desired spot and excitedly bounces on the balls of her feet with the biggest (natural) smile Jason had ever seen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Neb and I made a new element!” Charlie says, her voice slightly higher than usual and she had begun jumping and clapping.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Charlie did most of the work. I just ran the data and configurations.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie stops jumping at this and turns her head towards her laptop; her face scrunched up. “No way, you were a big part of this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what is this new element you guys created?” Jason asks with a hint of awe in his voice; he had taken his helmet off and was now looking around at the holograms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a new type of renewable power source. More efficient than electricity, yet leaves no carbon footprint. You could power a whole city with it for decades without even needing to replace it. Since it basically self-charges while still operating!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason lets out an impressed whistle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s...wow!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right?! And I’m actually crazy, super happy that you’re here, cause I’m gonna need your help synthesizing this bad boy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason incredulously raises his eyebrows and points to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me?” He asks dubiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you.” Charlie responds, with a questioning grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, are you sure?” Jason asks, tentatively, a blush creeps up his neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course! There's no one else I would trust with this type of thing."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This makes Jason’s already creeping blush reach the tips of his ears. “You're really sure? Like, absolutely sure? I mean, isn't this sort of thing really complicated and delicate?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No?" She responds dubiously, "Even if it were, you're one of the smartest people I know."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stops in his tracks. "You really think that?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--2 Days Later--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mornin’” Charlie says from the breakfast bar as Jason exits the bathroom and heads to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had stayed a bit too late the night before and had fallen asleep on her couch. Unlucky for him, it was April Fools; and just as Morgan had a mean streak, Charlie had a ruthless side to her as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She proudly takes the sight before her in; she had dyed the white streak in his hair a soft pink as he slept and put biodegradable glitter in the shampoo so by the time he made his way to her, she could see just how full of glitter his head was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coffee?” She offers in an innocent voice, holding a mug towards him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” He says, taking it, unaware of the current situation. That is, until he takes a sip and immediately spits it out as it was actually boiled Redbull with a load of salt in it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Happy April Fools.” Charlie says calmly as she takes a sip of her coffee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She finishes off her coffee with a smirk as Jason sets his cup down and gives her a tired gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They spend the rest of the day going back and forth, playing elaborate pranks on each other with their respective teams; Jason with Lucie after that morning, while Charlie joined forces with Serge and Morgan. For the most part, the day was filled with light-hearted antics; that is, until Jason and Lucie managed to steal Charlie’s watch. This resulted in one of the cruelest pranks Charlie had ever done; staging a violent kidnapping in her workshop, with the aid of her partners in crime and Poi-D, of course.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rich people really do like their possessions, eh?” Serge says as they sit down at the diner booth. Charlie’s prank had just ended and they decided to go to their usual spot afterwards.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is my dad’s watch,” Charlie responds in a quiet tone, “It’s the only personal thing of his that he actually planned on giving me while he was still alive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quiet covers the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Plus,” Charlie continued. “There’s a lot of sensitive shit on this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--Two Months Later--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, is everybody here?” Morgan asks, looking around the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone was in attendance; Lucie, Serge, and Jason. The four of them were currently sitting in her living room when she descended the stairs with a stack of thick binders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Let’s get to work.” She continues, unceremoniously dropping them on the table in front of the other three.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Woah,” Serge exhales as he leans forward to pick a binder up. “These are- a lot. Don't you think?” He says, flipping through the one in his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Listen,” Morgan says as Jason picks up a binder and flips through it. “She is my best friend in the whole world, she’s your guys’ friend too, and so help me, if you do not help me plan the perfect party for her, I will kidnap you all-” Her voice raises as she talks faster, becoming more crazed. “Drop you in a remote island, hunt you one by one, stuff you, and give you as presents.” She finishes yelling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason blinks in surprise while Serge blows air out with puffed cheeks and looks away and Lucie grimaces. Morgan takes a deep breath and clears her throat while tugging on her dress. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, so, I was thinking…” Morgan says calmly, “Maybe instead of it being just one, simple party, we could draw the day out with activities that Charlie likes or that reminds us of her. For example, we could have a waffle party in the morning, bowling in the afternoon followed by some other stuff, and we could finish up with a party here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not bad.” Serge says, looking another binder over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe after bowling, we could go somewhere, like paint-balling.” Serge suggests as Jason stares at his phone with intensity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that is perfect! Absolutely perfect!” Morgan exclaims, before squealing and clapping. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then we could take her to Lakeside Prospect Park.” Jason says, looking up from his phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lakeside Prospect Park?” Morgan questions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. In Brooklyn. Since, Charlie likes Brooklyn and it’s a few hours away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morgan gasps, “Yes!” She points at Jason. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She jumps up and down while clapping and giggling. “You’re a genius!” She exclaims.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now,” Morgan continues, moving to go back upstairs, “I’m going to go back upstairs to get the other binders. Why don’t you guys brainstorm some more?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Serge takes a deep breath and turns to Lucie and Jason. “This is gonna be a long day, isn’t it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few hours later, they were surrounded by planners, binders, and mood boards. Each of them had a laminated schedule, a plate of food, and were in deep discussion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, so, why don’t we go over the schedule one more time before we decide who gets paired with who for the gift shopping.” Morgan says cheerily. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Lucie starts. “We start at 5:30 am with a surprise waffle party.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“With plenty of bacon and toppings.” Morgan interjects. “Go on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After breakfast, we head to Brooklyn at 8:30 am; making sure that Charlie’s blindfolded before we leave.” Serge continues. “Then we have lunch before coming back to go paint-balling at 3:30 and then the movies at 5:00.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After that, we go to the bowling alley before finishing the day here with a party.” Jason finishes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morgan claps in joy and satisfaction. “Ok, now, why don’t we pair off, boy-boy, girl-girl. And knowing Charlie, she wouldn’t want anything more expensive than $100.00. And even then, that’s a stretch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all thoughtfully nod in agreement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---A Few Hours Later---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Charlie says as Jason enters the apartment and takes his seat next to her on the couch. “What’s up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not much,” Jason says, leaning back and resting his arm across the back. “Morgan is…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Intense?” Charlie offers, a glint of amusement in her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Yeah.” Jason relents. “It kind of reminds me of my big brother.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. Except, he doesn’t threaten to kidnap people, drop them on a remote island, hunt them, stuff them, and give them as presents.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie gives an impressed whistle. “She seriously said that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason nods with a small smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. So, what’s in the box?” He asks, nodding at the large, metal box resting on the table next to some snacks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. It’s set to unlock on my birthday.” Charlie responds, getting up to grab a couple sodas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason hums thoughtfully. “Well, what do you hope is in there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well..” Charlie says as she makes her way back to the couch, handing him his soda before sitting down. “Maybe some records, t-shirts, a poster or two? Or, knowing my grandma, souvenirs from her travels.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. Really hoping for the records, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For the aesthetic?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been thinking of getting a record player. Or two. I don’t know. Hey, tell me more about your day with Morgan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I was impressed by her thoroughness. And how much she cares about you. It was nice.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? I’m happy to hear that you had a good time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--The Next Day--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason tiredly made his way out of Charlie’s apartment after breakfast the next morning and headed towards the mall; his phone buzzing the whole way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took him only 30 minutes to find -what was to him- the perfect material gift; a framed vintage ‘Star Wars’ poster; Serge brought a vintage movie t-shirt, Lucie brought an espresso machine, and Morgan apparently brought her gift weeks ago and was unwilling to tell them what it was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After wrapping and leaving his gift at Morgan’s, Jason found himself on the road to Charlie’s workshop; she had told him that she was going to be busy all day, helping the community and whatnot, so he decided that this would be the perfect time to surprise her with a nicer looking workspace. He had stashed the fairy lights and cleaning supplies away the other day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Boss, incoming call from Mr.Grayson.” Delphi says halfway there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ignore it.” Jason responds in a bored tone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’ll just keep calling.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Fine.” Jason groans as he brings his bike to rest at a red light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jay, what the hell? I’ve been calling you all morning!” His older brother all but shouts as soon as the call went through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Jason responds, exasperated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you tell me? You go missing every other day, you don’t want to touch base after parole, nor do you want to tell us where you’ve been going.. B is starting to assume things and honestly, I am too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a short pause as his brother takes some time to breathe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, Little Wing, what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason sighs as he pulls in front of the workshop. “Listen, don’t worry about it.” He responds, hanging up before his older brother could squeeze another word in and dismounting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---Several Hours Later---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Jason says, lounging on Charlie’s couch and tossing a Cheez-it into the air to catch in his mouth. “You’ve never told me what the deal was with Poi-D? I mean, why do ya call him that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s short for Poindexter, which was one of my high school nicknames.” Charlie responds as she joins him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason frowned in confusion, but then it clicked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You graduated high school at 11 years old.” He stated matter-of-factly, a tiny grin of awe forming on his face as he sat up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“10.” She responds, softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“10 years old.” He repeated, amazed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gives him a look, as if to say, ‘please don’t make a big deal out of it’, and his face softens. From what he knew about her family, he guessed that she was in the limelight a lot and hated it. He understood; it wasn’t exactly the same, but being the black sheep of the family wasn’t without its ‘perks’. The near constant surveillance, that feeling of not really belonging, it’s suffocating.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, Einstein, what else did they call you?” He asks softly, wanting to lighten her mood a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” She begins, scrunching her face thoughtfully. “There’s that. Calcu-Carol, Roboto, Nerdtron-300, Tesla-tard -which was kinda..contradictory-, Nerdonica Mars, Sherlock Jones, The Dweebening, Gomer-Prime, Queen Nerdulent- first of her name, The Nerdonic Plague-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jeez!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Believe or not, most of those were actually started by my older siblings.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason frowns. “Seriously?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie solemnly nods. “Cross my heart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This causes Jason’s frown to deepen. Seeing this, Charlie decides that it’s her turn to lighten the mood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” She says, softly nudging him with her shoulder, “what about you? You gotta have at least five. I mean, no offense or anything, but you’re one of the nerdiest people I have ever met.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?! I am not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie gives him a look. “Jason, you named your A.I. after something that only history or greek mythology buffs would remember, you’re one of the very few people that can actually keep up with me in my workshop, and-” she gently pokes him. “One of your resolutions was to read more books.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gives him another look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I never really paid attention to that kind of stuff.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” She asks with a tinge of wonder in her voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“School was more important than what anyone else said about me. All that mattered was that I did my best.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie gives him a small and gentle smile, “Oh my god.” Her smile broadens, “You are such a nerd!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason playfully shoves her still grinning face while sporting a growing grin of his own, causing her to giggle a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“English and History were probably your favorite subjects.” Charlie says, in between giggles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Says the girl whose favorite subjects were most likely Math and Science.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, actually,” Charlie responds in a playful tone, “my favorite subjects were Calculus and English Lit.” She punctuates the end of her sentence by poking his cheek and once more grinning widely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow. Because there's such a difference.” He says in a sarcastic, teasing tone, causing Charlie to gently shove him; making him let out a loud, and very real, laugh.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! ❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 8: Happy Happy Birthday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's Charlie's birthday and she honestly wasn't expecting it to be anything like this.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey there! It's me, ya girl.</p>
<p>This is part 1 of 2 chapters dedicated to the girl's birthday.</p>
<p>Some fluffiness ahead.</p>
<p>Hope you guys enjoy.</p>
<p>As usual, no beta</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A flurry of bangs, and the feel of something falling on her startles Charlie awake. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing she noticed was the fact that her room was currently full of balloons. Then, she looked down to find that what she felt earlier were, in fact, flower petals. Finally, she looks up to her side and sees her friends with excited grins on their faces.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy Birthday!” Morgan cheers before throwing herself on her bewildered friend.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Charlie breathes as she hugs her back and gazes at the others, more awake and growing slightly overwhelmed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“When did you guys do all of this?” Charlie questions, looking around the room once more as each of them gave her a hug and took a seat on her bed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, just as soon as you fell asleep.” Morgan answers nonchalantly and the others solemnly nod.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, thank you.This is really sweet of you guys.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’d call up my dentist and apologize if I were you, ‘cause it’s only gonna get sweeter from here!” Serge exclaims, ruffling Charlie's hair.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As they make their way to the living room, her eyes widen as she takes in the sight before her; it was as if Willy Wonka took over her apartment. Her counter was covered with bowls filled with candy and cans of whipped cream, bottles of chocolate syrup and caramel syrup, and edible banners hanging off the sides. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ho-ly Shit.” She whispers to herself</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucie and Jason station themselves in the kitchen while Morgan and Serge sit Charlie down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Within 30 minutes, the four of them are talking animatedly and laughing on the couch; Jason’s large grin brightens as he watches Charlie’s whipped cream and caramel covered hands hover over her plate as she throws her head back in laughter.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By 8:30, all of them had taken showers, gotten dressed for the day, piled into the ‘67 Ford Mustang convertible that Serge borrowed from his dad, and sped off towards Brooklyn; a blindfolded Charlie jamming out along the way. They were having so much fun, the hours melted by and, in no time, they were parked at their destination. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It takes less than 10 seconds for Charlie to recognize where they are as soon as they remove her blindfold; her heart squeezes in her chest as she lets out a soft laugh and turns to her friends in amazement.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Surprise!” Morgan yells excitedly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Speechless, Charlie tackles them into a hug.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” She whispers as happy tears threaten to fall from her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aww, Cookie!” Morgan coos as she hugs her back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Morgan says as most of them let go, save for Jason who had left an arm draped on Charlie’s shoulder, “I’m gonna go talk to the deejay, you guys get your skates.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They disperse, Morgan to the deejay’s booth, and the others to the skate rental counter; Charlie’s head resting on Jason’s arm as they walked. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Soon enough, Charlie was gliding gracefully around the rink to ‘Heart of Glass’ with Jason in towe while Serge helped Morgan up from the ground for the third time in those 5 minutes; Lucie decided she was too old for falling on her butt and instead opted to sit at their table and watch them in amusement. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for this,” Charlie says as they skate. “It’s really nice.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, well, you’re welcome.” Jason responds, a bashful smile working its way onto his lips. “But this was a group effort.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but,” Charlie leans on him a little, “you came up with it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t know that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie gives him a look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the only person that I’ve talked about this place with.” Her gaze softens. “So thanks. This is really sweet of you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't sweat it, Short Stuff." Jason mumbles. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As they skate and talk some more, Jason’s hand slowly creeps towards hers until they gently brush and finally, clasp together; the duo shyly look away from each other and continue skating until it was time to leave. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their fingers were kept tightly interlocked even as they walk back to the car, only letting go when they had gotten in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the day passes by rather quickly; Jason, Morgan, and Charlie dominate the paintball field and barely get any paint on them (which probably freaked out their victims even more).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They then head to the movies, where the theater had a special event for ‘Back to the Future’, which Morgan begrudgingly agrees to watch after Charlie gives her the 'puppy-dog' eyes; she of course quickly regrets it as Charlie and Serge keep making awful jokes and observations throughout the movie because they're a couple of nerds and Jason kept encouraging them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The last activity of the day finds them at a bowling alley where Serge and Lucie proceed to destroy the other three with little effort which somewhat sucked because Lucie kept trash talking in spanish and Serge kept doing cheesy celebratory dances every time he made a strike.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, they arrive at Morgan’s, which had been intricately decorated with flowers and balloons for the occasion; cars line the street in front of the house.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘T.N.T’ blares and confetti falls as Charlie enters the full building; the cheering faces of her tenants, business owners that she’d helped, and other associates flood her vision. An amazed smile spreads across her face as she looks around at all the decorations in awe and more confetti, mixed with flower petals, fall. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She catches the end of a camera flash in the corner of her eye.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy Birthday, Charlie!” Everyone shouts as a large banner unfurls from above with glittery, multicolored lettering.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie brings her hands to her smiling mouth and closes her eyes as her heart swells for might've been the sixth time that day. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She then takes a deep breath, tucks her hair behind her ears while opening her tearful eyes and sniffling, and lets out a gentle "Thank You" before being swept into a giant group hug. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let's get this kickass party started!” Charlie yells, poking her head out of the mass of bodies and limbs and is quickly answered by thundering whoops and cheers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was, without any doubt, the best party she’d ever had. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No needing to disappear to the roof, no needing to wear uncomfortable dresses and stretch her face into an exhaustingly fake smile, everyone there were people that she’d come to care about and that, apparently, cared about her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She never had that type of luck before. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A photo booth was rented; there was a ‘Make Your Own Waffle Tower’ station, a ‘Make Your Own Shirt’ station, a VR station, even a rather large trampoline; which kid her would have more than loved.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When all the pictures and dancing were done, she enjoyed a red velvet marble cake with cream cheese frosting with sugar sunflowers/tulips as decorations. Sparklers and colored flame candles, which she blew after the customary song, littered the top.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And everything felt so right in that moment outside of her door, that she can't help but to kiss Jason on the cheek; despite the voice in her head that said that she probably shouldn't because this time felt different, like the world stood still for those few seconds. But most importantly, it felt somewhat hopeful.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hopeful that things stay this good, that she stays this happy, that even though she knows that one of the hardest days of her life was happening in a few hours, she'd be okay because for the first time in a long time, she wasn't alone.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading ❤❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 9: Take It Back Now, Y'all</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pt.2 of the Birthday Bonanza, this time viewed from Jason's perspective.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Aaand pt.2 to this whole thing.</p><p>Hope you guys enjoy!</p><p>Some more fluff</p><p>As usual, no beta</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>--That Same Day: 4:00 am--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morgan was probably one of the most fascinating people Jason had ever met. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had just woken up and she was already hard at work filling Charlie’s room up with balloons; he didn’t even know when she had finished blowing them up in the first place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In all honesty, her work ethic reminded him almost too much of the other Bats, especially Bruce and the Replacement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By 5:30, they were more than finished setting up and were now standing over their sleeping friend, each with a balloon and needle in their hand. He kinda felt bad for her; he knew that if his brothers did what he’s about to do to him, he’d maim them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which is why he was slightly surprised when he saw her grow increasingly delighted as she looked around, that is, until he remembered that this is her first birthday in 7 years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thought nagged at him even during breakfast; of course, he didn’t let it show. Knowing Charlie, she would have put everything aside to make sure he was okay; which honestly pissed him off even more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The feeling eventually melted away, however, as he witnessed her chortling at the top of her lungs, with her head thrown back, and whipped cream and caramel covering her fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As usual, she vaporized every negative emotion he was feeling without doing anything;  like someone took a ray of sunlight from a field, or something, and managed to trap it in the shape of a person. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then they found themselves on their way to Brooklyn; the wind flowing through her hair as she head-banged and lip synced to the songs on the mixtape made him forget about the fact that his phone had been incessantly buzzing since 7 o’clock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They eventually reach their destination, and his chest tightens when he sees the tears form in the corners of her eyes as she takes in the sight in front of them before promptly hugging them, and he can’t help himself from draping his arm across her shoulder when the hug ends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slightly blushes when she leans her head on his arm and as he watches her tie up her skates. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiles as they glide around the ring; laughing and joking, with the occasional heart-to-heart, until they find themselves holding hands all the way to the car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, there were the other activities for the day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was probably the most fun he’d ever had while paintballing; if he didn’t know the two women, he would’ve actually been surprised and terrified by their ruthlessness. But, since he did, he only felt joy and a tiny bit of pride. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And normally, the movie theater would be cold, especially with the clothes they had on, but he barely felt anything thanks to Charlie, who almost made him choke on popcorn by cracking jokes and making bad puns. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, there was the bowling alley. It had felt so warm and familiar, like he had grown up going there, when, in reality, he had only been maybe 3 times. After all, vigilantes don’t bowl much. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And finally, there was the party. The full house made sense to him; of course someone like her, someone who was kind- and gentle, and funny, and beautiful. God, she's so beautiful. And pretty. Especially now, as there’s confetti littering her hair as her face is lit with amazement, and he can’t think of any word more fitting. But mainly beautiful. Completely and utterly beautiful. Like the first few rays of sunlight when the sun is just rising.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time stood still as he watched her go around, talking and joking. Until she came to him, that is, and everything quickly resumed</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” She whispers, giving him a smile that makes his heart pound.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” He responds cooly with a gentle expression on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Having fun?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. This is nice.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He returns her smile with utmost genuinity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wanna dance?” She asks, rather cutely; and by ‘cute’, he meant she was nervous but it looked so adorable to him that he could’ve sworn his heart was going to explode.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” He said, taking her hand as they made their way to the dancefloor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't know how or why, but the way her hand fit in his as his fingers slipped around hers and their palms pressed together had become a sort of comfort to him; not to mention how she always slightly swung her arm as they walked and looked at him to check to see if he’s okay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he thought that that was the pinnacle of the things that made him nearly breathless until they actually started dancing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had seen her dance before- when she was cooking, or tinkering; when she had won a round during game night after everyone else was talking smack, while they were eating and a song she liked came on, earlier in the car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, it seemed, those times paled in comparison to now. The joyful rhythm that was always there before combined with an odd grace that easily meshed with his steps. He couldn’t help but laugh as they moved; his chest feeling warm and fuzzy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, after all the dancing, hanging out, pictures, and some delicious cake (which he ate after he and Serge brought all of her gifts to her apartment), the night ends in front of her apartment with just him and her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for today,” She breathes, eyes shining with a somewhat overwhelming emotion. “It was probably the best birthday I’ve ever had in a long while.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This brings a blush to his cheeks and ears as he gives her a tender look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anything for you, Short Stuff.” He responds half jokingly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This earns him a small laugh and a quick peck on the cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Pretty Boy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And just like that, she was gone; her apartment door gently closed, leaving him alone in the strangely bright hallway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, before he could even begin to think about anything, his phone buzzes, bringing everything back to normal. He ignores it yet again before making his way out of the building.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is your phone having some sort of problem where it doesn’t let you know that someone’s trying to call you?” Jason hears his older brother’s voice say behind him as he perches on a roof overlooking another building; Delphi had activated the x-ray vision and he was staring intently into it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes and focuses once more on their target ahead; not bothering to even give the elder a grunt of acknowledgement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jason.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice was closer now and the sound of more footprints suggested that the others were there too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Dickhead, monikers only, r’member?” Jason drawls out as he senses his brothers come closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine, then. Hood.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Jason responds in an exasperated manner; the x-ray vision disabled as he turned around to face his brothers-Nightwing, Red Robin, and Signal. Nightwing and Red Robin were frowning while Signal just looked confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day! What’s going on with you?” Nightwing is next to him now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been busy.” Jason simply responds, looking back at the building and reactivating the x-ray vision.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doing what?” Nightwing presses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you need to know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We found some bodies earlier. All of them were wanted criminals-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think I did it.” He concluded, trying to keep the creeping feeling of disappointment and anger at bay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or at least know something about it.” Red Robin interjected, hoping to keep some semblance of peace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason sighs. “No. I didn't do it, nor do I know anything about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, then, where have you been? What’s going on with you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been out all day. Don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t you just tell us what’s going on?” Red Robin pipes up once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Thank God.’ He thinks as the target came into view.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cause, our guy’s here.” Jason says, standing up to spring into action.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! ❤❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 10: While She Gently Weeps</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He does not have Charlie senses...he does not!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, hello!</p>
<p>Quick warning: this chapter and the next may be a bit on the angsty side (if the chapter title itself wasn't any indication)</p>
<p>As usual, no beta</p>
<p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>That morning was probably the longest Jason’s had for some time now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t even know why he slept over in the first place. Between Dick’s pestering and Bruce’s looks, he couldn’t wait to leave and just do whatever; like perusing the library. Or finding the asshole who's been running around killing people and shooting their ankles off. Not to mention, last time he checked, the case Charlie's grandmother gave her should've opened by now and he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't the least bit curious.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His plans, however, were scrapped as the Dickhead did everything in his power to fill his day up with petty investigations, errands, and, probably, one of the most tiring speeches from Bruce and Dick that he’d ever had to sit through. In fact, he had zoned out for the most part; enough for Bruce to furiously snap his fingers in front of his face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jason? Jason! I asked you a question, Jason!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Jason groans.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s got you so distracted, Littlewing?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ah-ha, the tried, and complete bullshit, "good cop, bad cop".</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just thinking about patrol later.” He lies, getting up to go to his room (or more like the room he's currently using for some asinine reason).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jason-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By the time he reaches his destination, a sinking feeling had settled in his stomach. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Usually, Charlie'd have texted him by now; but today, it seemed that she was quiet. It was honestly unsettling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Concerned, he allows himself to fall onto his bed and unlocks his phone; then goes to the dial-pad, taps on number 5, and then the call icon. Jason lets out a small laugh as the contact picture that she had taken of herself, which was basically an ugly face with her tongue sticking out, pops up on the screen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, so, sorry you didn’t catch me. I’d say leave a message, but we both know I’m not gonna listen to it.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This is followed by a beep, to which Jason hangs up with a frown.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Maybe I should text her.’ He thinks as he goes to type out a message.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey. Is everything ok? You wouldn’t believe the shit morning I had. Text me back so we could laugh about it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs and shuts the screen off. The feeling in the pit of his stomach rose and sent a chill up his spine. Something was wrong, he just knew it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Why would something be wrong? She was more than fine yesterday. Maybe Morgan roped her into something. Or maybe she’s in the workshop.’ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>'Then again, if that were the case, she would’ve still answered the phone or texted us back.’ A small voice piped up in the back of his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Maybe she’s just not in the mood to talk.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Does she really seem like the type to just ghost us?’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘She ghosted her family.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘We aren’t like those sociopaths!’ The voice shrieked, offended that he would think such a thing. ‘Plus, doesn’t she talk to her grandmother? C’mon, man. You know something’s up.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘So, what, everytime she doesn’t talk to us, something’s wrong?’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Yes!’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason groans in frustration before getting up and getting ready to go train.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘She’s probably just busy.’ He thinks once more as he lands another blow on the punching bag. ‘She’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He recited this mantra even during patrol; as he was punching a crook in the face and shooting another in the kneecap. But it still was for naught. The small voice grew along with the sinking feeling as the night carried on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘What if she had to go out and got herself into trouble.’ It piped up as he sat on the edge of a roof.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘She’s a grown woman who can take care of herself.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Oh, sure. It’s not like she almost got stabbed the first time we met her, or shot in the head at the bank because she kept pissing off a robber. And she’s not grown; she just turned 19. Which, may I remind you, is just one year younger than you? And you’re a disaster! The only difference between the two of you is that you’re a trained disaster.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason lets out a frustrated huff and puts his helmet back on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Delphi, do me a favor and check all street cameras for Charlie.” He said after making sure that the comms were off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure thing, boss.” Delphi responds with a smug tone in her voice, prompting Jason to roll his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing, boss. In fact, there hasn’t been any activity from her all day.” The A.I. reports after a while.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason involuntarily frowns at this. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Maybe she’s just tuckered out from yesterday. It was a big day.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘She still would’ve texted us. Even a quick, can’t talk rn.’ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Next thing he knows, patrol is done and he’s unwittingly racing towards Charlie’s. Different scenarios and reasons pop up in his head as he jumps from rooftop to rooftop; some of them somewhat ridiculous. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He finally arrives to the rooftop overlooking Charlie’s apartment. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From what he could see, her lights were off, but a light from a screen was on; too dim to be from her television, but too big to be from her phone. Something about it had an eerie feeling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gracefully leaps from the roof, onto her fire escape and looks in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The light was coming from an old-timey projector that was placed next to the now open case and Charlie was huddled on the floor, leaning against the couch in sweatpants and a shirt that looked a bit too big on her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason gently opens the window and climbs in. A song he’d never heard here before played softly as he silently makes his way to her; removing his helmet as he went. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as he’s close enough, he sees that her cheeks are covered with tears. Tiny sniffles can be heard as he gets down next to her on one knee.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” He whispers softly as he gently places his hand on her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Startled, her head snaps up towards him and he could swear the air left his lungs. Her eyes were literally full of tears; even her eyelashes were thick with them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After about half a minute, she seems to register that he was there and quickly brushes the tears from her eyes in a furious manner.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” She says, trying to mask her cracked voice with a happy tone. “What’s up?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason frowns.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I could ask you the same thing.” He responds softly, his brow furrowed in concern as he waited for her to talk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, um, I’m okay.” She says with one last sniff before beginning to get up. “You want anything?” She casually points to the kitchen with her thumbs, now fully standing up and moving to go to the aforementioned area.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Jason says, genty gripping her wrist and stopping her in her tracks. “The only thing I want, is to know what’s going on.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a pause.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon. Please?” He gently urges, loosening his grip a little.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She softly shakes her head. “It’s nothing.” She whispers in a voice that makes his chest tighten. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey. Hey.” He responds in a soft voice, pulling her closer by her shoulders, bending down a little, and dipping his head to look into her tearful eyes. “It’s not nothing. C’mon, you can tell me.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gently runs the pad of his thumb across her wet cheek before tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. He spots a letter and its envelope on the ground behind her as she shakes her head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s dumb and annoying.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason’s frown deepens at this as he cups her face and wipes her tears away once more; this time with both thumbs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing about you could ever be annoying.” He responds with protectiveness in his voice that somewhat surprises him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before she could say anything, something from the projector catches his eye. Curious, he turns his attention towards it; his hands still cupping her face. The image was that of a young looking, well built, African-American man, in winter gear, holding hands with a tiny, heavily dressed girl of the same skin tone in an ice-skating rink. He had a hand in his pocket and was looking down patiently at her as she was nervously skating.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That’s when it clicked; Jason sighs before turning his attention back to her and wordlessly enveloping her in a hug. As he rests his chin on top of her head, he catches the upper half of the letter:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey there, Bright Eyes,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>If you’re reading this, it’s most likely because I bit it before I got the chance to wish you a happy 18th. Hopefully, you’ve grown up to be your own person; someone that you’re proud of, instead of what your mother, or society, wants you to be. I wish I could’ve seen you; could’ve been your dad longer. But what’s life, if not fleeting. Besides, we both know how much of an idiot I can be-probably got myself blown up-’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason clenches his jaw and holds her a little tighter as her sniffles are muffled by his chest and her small hands hold onto his back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Delphi, can you do me a favor, and find the grave of William Jones, please?” Jason says, putting on his helmet as soon as Charlie disappeared into the bathroom to splash water on her tired eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure thing, boss.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The grave is located in 1370 Remsen Ave, Brooklyn, New York.” The A.I. says just as, Charlie exits the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon, get ready. I’m taking you somewhere.” Jason gently orders her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She cocks her head to the side, confused, before going to do as he asked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Maybe this is a bit too much.’ A voice says in the back of his head as he grabs her keys and walks Maurice to the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as she exits her room wearing jeans, an oversized hoodie, and chucks, he opens the door and waits for her to shut off the projector and lock her window. He locks up once they exit the apartment, and soon enough, the duo are on their way to New York with Delphi giving him the directions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They arrive at their destination in only a couple hours. Confused, Charlie takes her helmet off and looks around; realization settles in her eyes as they finally land on him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just up ahead.” Jason says softly, nodding towards some graves on his left after removing his helmet, before looking at her with a gentle expression.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She gives him a look that was a combination of thankfulness and something else before setting her helmet down on the bike and walking off in the referred direction.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘This really is beginning to be too much.’ The voice repeats as he watches her go off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe…” Jason mutters to himself.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! ❤❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 11: Closure and Reassurance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Because some of the worst goodbyes are the ones that should've happened sooner</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>What up?!</p>
<p>As warned last chapter, there is some angst, but also, some fluff. (Tried to kinda balance it out)</p>
<p>As always, no beta</p>
<p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She’d hoped that it would carry over; and it did at first. She was so happy when she woke up, she actually forgot what today was. That is, until she opened the case. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At first, all she saw was an old-timey projector and the film. Then she saw one of her dad’s old t-shirts and it was a punch to the gut, yes, but it wasn’t that bad. Nor was the slideshow. It was the letter that got to her. She could feel his presence the more she read; hear his voice clearer and clearer with every word. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And it broke her heart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then came Jason.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’d thought that yesterday was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. But, as she passed a few headstones and finally stood in front of the grave, that thought quickly faded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tentatively strokes the marble headstone; silently reading it as her fingers took in the coolness of the stone:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>    William Reginald Jones</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> August 19, 1968-June 24, 2011</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “These are the seasons of emotion, and like the winds, they rise and fall.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Oh, God, it really is him.’ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her fingers quickly tap on the headstone as tears brim her eyes and she squats down to level with it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey dad.” She begins, “Sorry I haven’t come by ‘til now. I could try and make the excuse that I didn’t know where you were until now, but we both know I could’ve tried months ago. I guess, deep down, I didn’t wanna come. I figured that if I stayed away long enough, you would come find me and tell me off; instead of...you know...this. I guess, if I came here, then I would know that you’re really gone.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A tear fell from her cheek as she rested her forehead on the stone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I really didn’t want you to be gone." She chokes out. "There was so much we were supposed to do and see. Plus, you were the only one who really got me. I mean, yeah, I have some great friends now. Like, Jason. He drove me here. You’d like him. He's kind and thoughtful and one of the biggest nerds I've ever met. But we’ve been hanging out for only a few months now. And then there’s Morgan, who's kinda like mom-but if mom was an actual human being; Serge, who's one of the most talented mechanics and coolest guys I've ever met; and Lucie, who's one of the kindest, most hardworking people to ever exist on this earth. But then, I’ve only known them for about a year. And those seven years before I met them were hell and I really missed you.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sniffs, lifts her head, and sighs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess, what I really mean to say is, I wish we had more time together, and thank you. For everything. Heaven knows how more fucked up I'd be without you. I love you to Pluto and back, Space-Man.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It takes nearly everything within her to not break down as more of her tears fall and she gently kisses his headstone, stands up, and makes her way back to Jason. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---15 Minutes Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, for this.” She says, giving him a small smile as they sat side by side at a diner bar. There were bowls of sundaes in front of them, along with steaming cups of coffee.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was nothing.” Jason responds, looking down and fiddling with his spoon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not nothing.” Charlie says, gently placing her hand on top of his to still it and squeezing before retrieving it. “In fact, it’s a huge something.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How’re you feeling?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Better. Like a huge weight’s been lifted off my shoulders, y’know.” She responds before eating some more of her sundae.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s good.” Jason says, joining her. “You shouldn’t keep stuff like this to yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie looks down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” He says softly. “You know you could always come to me for anything, right? Even if you think it’s something I would find annoying or dumb.Okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Charlie responds while gently nodding and giving him another thankful smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason returns her smile and ruffles her hair before they both return to their treats.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She eventually decides that she wants to finish the slideshow and read the other letters as they ride back to her place. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What she doesn’t account for, however, is Jason wanting to join her; which, honestly, she should’ve expected. But, still. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They had just reached her apartment door when he spoke up:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what are you gonna do now?” He asks in a low voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm, probably watch the rest of the slideshow and read the other letters.” She responds as she unlocks and opens the door. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah? Mind if I join you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure!” She responds dubiously, giving him room to come in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a sweet somberness as the music plays once more and they sit and watch the projection; Charlie explains the stories behind each picture, like a child, with her head on his shoulder, as Jason listens attentively. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>About halfway through, Jason wordlessly rests his hand palm up; a silent offer for ‘waffles or pancakes’, to which she responds by softly slipping her fingers across his palm and intertwining their fingers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Truth be told, she’d always loved holding hands with him; it made her feel safe and secure-and an emotion that honestly makes her anxious.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite this, she can’t help but to feel happy when he squeezes her hand ever so slightly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then came the rest of the letters, which were mainly addressed for each missed birthday; except for one from her grandmother.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The only time that they weren’t talking about her family and whatnot, is when she finally gets a hold of her phone and notices the message Jason sent those hours ago.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy crap!” She says, chuckling, as soon as Jason tells her about the events that inspired the text.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dude, that sucks!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason responds to this with a small snicker.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, aren’t you gonna be in trouble for being here?” Charlie questions seriously.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh.” He responds nonchalantly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A small blush creeps up her cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once more, she ignores the anxious feeling that had settled in her stomach, due to her poor self-control, and instead kisses him on the cheek before laying her head back down on his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His grip tightens on her hand and she can’t help but smile just a little. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!❤❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 12: American (Apple) Pie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just a lighthearted summer's day.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey-yo! </p><p>Honestly, I would've uploaded this way sooner, but these past couple weeks have been a bitch, so...yeah...</p><p>But I'm back!</p><p>I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. </p><p>It's kinda short, but whatcha gonna do?</p><p>As usual, no beta</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After months of hectic preparation; getting permits, meeting the other landlords and vendors, and gathering supplies, the time for her first, hopefully annual, Fourth of July BBQ. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She put the notification on the bulletin board (along with a sign up sheet for grillers and volunteers), told every tenant she saw and spent time with, sent out emails, passed out flyers-to say she’s hyped would be an understatement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wakes up extra early for prep; making sure the grills and food are prepped, the vendors are set up, the stage is ready (along with the balloon archways), the treats/goody bags are done, the prizes for the talent shows and contests are purchased and polished, and the firecrackers/sparklers were fully stocked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Morgan arrives.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank God for Morgan</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She thinks as Morgan candidly takes up more than half of the work; including coordinating half of the events for the day: The introductions for each of the demonstrations, The hosting of the Crafting and Pie Making contests, The hosting of the Adult Talent Show, and Co-coordinating the Fireworks Extravaganza.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This leaves the Opening Ceremony, the Co-judging of the Chili Cook-off, the hosting of the Eating and Art contests, the hosting of the Kids/Youth Talent Show, and Co-coordinating the Fireworks Extravaganza to Charlie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Morgan came Jason, who Charlie had convinced to help grill; and by convince, she nonchalantly asked and he said yes in a heartbeat. Mainly because he was already planning to. He saw the sign-up sheet on the bulletin and it warmed his heart that she was even thinking of doing this kind of thing in the first place. Plus, it gave him a good excuse to not be home. She also convinced him to be a judge for the Chili Cook-off and help with the fireworks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because of her friends’ involvement, everything went as smoothly as she could’ve ever hoped; including even the opening speech. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was incredibly nervous at first, since this was the first time she’d spoken in public, but, after seeing her friends’ smiling faces, she had all the courage she could ever need. Plus, it was a short ‘Welcome and thank you’ speech.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The event lasted for a few fun hours before the sun started to set.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you so much for allowing my team and I to share this day with you and to document it. It was a blast!” Sophie, a reporter for the Gotham Chronicle says to Charlie as everything begins to be packed up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” Charlie responds. “I’m glad you had a great time!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Muchas gracias por esto. Este lugar necesitaba algo así.No soluciona todo lo que está mal en este lugar, pero aún así.” One of her tenants said as soon as the reporter left and everyone had begun to head home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie gently smiles at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gracias por tan amables palabras, señor Reyes. Es un placer y un honor poder hacer esto por usted, para todos.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eres buena, C." Mr. Reyes responds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pats Charlie on the shoulder and walks to his apartment; leaving her there to finish wrapping everything up with Morgan and Jason. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hey, there’s a lot of bottle rockets and roman candles left.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Morgan says as Charlie and Jason share a mischievous look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No Wizard Battles.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Boo.” The two respond in unison as Morgan walks away to take care of some other stuff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re doing it later, though, right?” Jason whispers to her as they begin to put the aforementioned items away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, totally.” Charlie responds, giving him a discreet wink, to which he chuckles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--Some Time Later--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We probably should’ve listened to Morgan.” Charlie says as she perches herself on the back of the couch and lets Jason wrap her lightly singed hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ‘Wizard Battle’ had been chaotic and, surprisingly, short. Spots of soot littered their faces, their hair and clothes were in disarray; not to mention the small scrapes and bruises that they were currently treating for each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you want a fudgesicle? Or maybe some pie?” Charlie asks, swiveling around on the couch back to go to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had brought some apple pie from a vendor before everything was shut down, and ended up getting two more on the house; one pecan, and one cherry. Neither were desirable, but she didn’t want to be rude; so she hoped to pawn them off asap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh God, no! No more pie!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie snorts and grabs an additional fudgesicle before making her way back to the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat another pie ever again.” Jason groans as he rests his head back and unwraps the frozen treat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw, and here I wanted to give you a ‘thank you’ pie.” Charlie fake-pouts, earning a small pillow smack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, are you really okay with that reporter taking pictures? You weren’t uncomfortable, or anything?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Charlie shakes her head and offers a soft, reassuring smile. “It’s just for the Gotham Chronicle. And it’s not like it was only me who was photographed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but, still-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everyone that I’ve come to care about are in those photos with me." Charlie says, shrugging.  "So I’m ok. Really.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie reaches over to cover his hand with hers and gives it a light squeeze before returning her hand to its place and resuming her fudgesicle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Am I one of those people?” Jason asks, half-jokingly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah! Of course! You’re like, one of my best friends in the whole world. And now, I'm pretty sure Morgan has acquired an urge to kick my butt." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason gives her an...interesting smile. Mistaking this for an awkward one, she tries to do damage control.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry if what I said-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no-!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s just that, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t. I care a lot about you too. And I’m happy that you’ve included me in the ranks of best friend-dom.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They smile at each other once more before resuming their fudgesicles and turning on the television.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry if the translations are wack. I used an app, but I'm not sure how accurate it is.</p><p>Muchas gracias por esto. Este lugar necesitaba algo así.No soluciona todo lo que está mal en este lugar, pero aún así. --&gt; Thank you so much for this. This place needed something like it. It doesn’t fix everything wrong with this place, but, still.</p><p>Gracias por tan amables palabras, señor Reyes. Es un placer y un honor poder hacer esto por usted, para todos. --&gt; Thank you for such kind words, Mr. Reyes. It’s my pleasure and honor to be able to do this for you, for everyone.</p><p>Eres buena, C. --&gt; You're a good one, C</p><p>Thanks for reading! ❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 13: Another One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Normally, birthdays are meant to be spent with people you actually enjoy hanging out with. However, it seems that Jason doesn't really have a choice.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes, yes, 'tis a rare "Jason's POV" chapter. </p>
<p>It is also another short-ish chapter.</p>
<p>As usual, no beta</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jason doesn't know how, but, it seems that somehow he may have some semblance of a life?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He'd go to the library, hang around the Bowery. Even spend some time with Charlie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In his defence, her place was strangely comforting; with it’s beat-up couch, abundance of snacks, and the casual warmth. And she was there. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He meant it when he said that he cared about her; how could he not? In fact, there’s times where he’s found himself caring too deeply. But, once again, how could he not? He probably hadn’t been this close to anyone since Eddie, Biz, and Arty. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Which is why he found himself extremely annoyed due to the fact that he was still in the manor at 12 o’clock in the afternoon for a family meeting. He should’ve been doing literally anything else by now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For example, Charlie was talking about playing basketball with some of the neighborhood kids and he was kinda looking forward to not only seeing her try and play, but also beating her, on account of her being so short. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He lets out a chuckle upon thinking about it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you laughing at, Todd?” His youngest brother sneers from across the room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason clears his throat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing you need to worry about, Demon Brat.” He responds cooly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He ignores the looks from around the room and begins texting her:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>J-money: Hey, Short Stuff. How’d trying to reach the basket go? :P</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a short pause before a tiny ‘typing’ icon can be seen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oompa Loompa: Wouldn’t you like to know, Pretty Boy? </span>
  <span>( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason lets out a snort, earning some more looks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>J-money: Aw, did it go that badly? (ت)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oompa Loompa: &gt;:P</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>J-money: 😆😂</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oompa Loompa: You suck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sends her a gif of Eric Foreman pouting.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oompa Loompa: Lol. Whatever. We're gonna hang out later, right?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>J-money: Of course! Annoying you is always more fun in person!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oompa Loompa: Psh 🙄</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jason!” Bruce’s voice sharply rang out throughout the room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The smile that had managed to find its way on his face quickly disappeared as he looked up towards the source.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bruce was scowling, more so than usual. All eyes in the room were once more on him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks around with a quirked eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” He answers dubiously.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bruce sighs as Dick buries his face in his hands and everyone else gives Jason various looks; from Blondie's smirk of approval to the Demon Brat’s disdainful scowl. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t get there until after patrol; around 1:30 am. Part of him feels bad as he clamors in through the window, while another, larger, part of him was relieved that she was still awake. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Short Stuff.” He breathes, removing his helmet as he joins her on the couch.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was sitting in her usual, cross-legged position with a bag of chips in her lap. For some reason, her t.v. was off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sup, Pretty Boy?” She answers nonchalantly while silently offering him some chips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, not much. Bruce yelled at me again today. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna try and ground me, or something, one of these days.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why’d he yell at you?” She asked, slightly cocking her head to the side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason shrugs and pops another chip in his mouth as Charlie gently shakes her head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So...how many of them dunked on you again?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Believe it or not, none. Because they have manners. Plus, they were only a couple inches taller than me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason gives her a look as if to say, ‘Yeah, right.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She rolls her eyes at this and fishes her phone out of her yoga pants’ pocket.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Here.” She huffs, tapping at her phone before showing him the active screen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a video of her and the kids; most of which were either her height or a couple inches taller than her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They all seemed to be having a great time; Charlie had even managed to make some baskets to the cheers of everyone else. Including whoever recorded the video.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who recorded this?” Jason asks, ignoring the slight pang of envy creeping up his spine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Morgan.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?" He scrunches his nose at the thought. "I thought she hated stuff like sports. And ‘city heat’.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, she does. Serge managed to convince her. I think they may have something going on.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason snorts at this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Morgan? And Serge? C’mon, Short Stuff. What next? Poison Ivy dating a man?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever, man. I know I’m right.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright. So, what’d you guys do afterwards?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing much.” Charlie says, getting up and stretching. “Just got some pizza before Serge and a couple parents took them camping as a last hurrah before school starts.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t go with them?” He calls after her as she rummages around in the kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah. Too much fun for one day. Plus, I had more important things to do.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Like?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sits on the table in front of him, holding a cupcake with a single lit candle in it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t believe it. Tonight had been so busy that he hadn’t noticed. And he only mentioned it to her once-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy Birthday, Pretty Boy. Make a wish."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He grins at the softness in her voice and closes his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘I want it to always be like this.’ He thinks before opening his eyes and blowing out the candle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gazes at her smiling face and leans forward to kiss her head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” He whispers into her hair.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her smile broadens before being quickly replaced with a face of alarm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, I almost forgot!” She says, quickly getting up and handing him his cupcake before disappearing into her room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason lets out a content sigh as he stares at the sweet and huffs out a small laugh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She rushes back with a small box tied up with twine and a card envelope.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Here ya go!” She says, handing them to him and sitting back down on the table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You got me something?!” He says, tenderly taking them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, man!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He carefully unties the twine and opens the box. Inside there is a brown braided leather bracelet; with intertwining red and silver strands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a friendship bracelet!” She says excitedly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Although,” her voice drops into one of slight regret, “now that I think about it...It’s a kinda dumb gift-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” He says abruptly as he puts it on and gives her a somewhat offended look. “It’s a great gift!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oo-kay, then!” She responds with a surprised face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I got ya something else, just in case you thought the bracelet was weird.” She nods towards the envelope.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” He says, opening the envelope excitedly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The card was white with ‘This Is Your Annual Reminder That I’m Glad You Were Born’ typed out in black; making his heart swell. As he opens it, two slips of paper slide out onto his lap. Curious, he picks them up and carefully examines them. They’re tickets. And not just any tickets; they’re tickets to Phantom of the Opera on Broadway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you would enjoy it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re awesome! Thank you!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie simply grins widely with her eyes closed and her leg slightly swinging. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” She exclaims as Jason swiftly gets up and pulls her into a bear-hug. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She gently returns it to the best of her ability and gives him a pat on the back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just then, an idea-or more like an urge- strikes him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” He whispers, still holding onto her. “How many pillows do ya have?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She pulls away to give him a puzzled look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---30 Minutes Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The fort doesn’t take long to make, and they find themselves lounging amongst pillows, snacks, and playing cards.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, who’re you gonna take?” She asks as she shuffles the deck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I dunno.” He responds as she deals.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, he wants to go with her; but he’d rather draw it out than ask her outright. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who do you think I should take?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She makes a face and shrugs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess, go with someone that you know you’ll have fun with.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm-hm.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, say, someone like you?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There's a pause as she registers what was just said.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, sure! I’d love to.” She says with a dopey grin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They play until the both of them start yawning and end up falling asleep side by side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>--Hours Later--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason awakes to the smell of bacon and the sound of his phone buzzing incessantly somewhere.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He tiredly fumbles around the sheets until he finds the device and unlocks the screen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy Crap.” He mutters as he sees the amount of missed calls he had.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This past one was the twentieth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Fuck.’ He thinks as he yawns and exits the fort. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Morning.” Charlie says over the sound of the running sink.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mornin’” Jason responds, setting his phone down on the living room table and rubbing his eyes as he walks over to the breakfast bar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She slides a plate of food in front of him; a cheesy omelet with a side of bacon and toast.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How was your night?” She asks, placing a cup of coffee in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was nice.” He responds, gently, as he begins eating.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He almost groans as the cheesy, gooeyness of the omelet combined with the savory sweetness of the bacon fills his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How phas your might?” He asks her with a full mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was great.” She says, slightly giggling, before joining him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As they eat, his phone starts buzzing again; which he ignores.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You really think it’s a good idea to keep ignoring them? What if there’s an emergency? Or maybe they want to actually, y’know, celebrate your birthday?” Charlie asks, taking his plate to wash.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I doubt it.” He responds, finishing off his coffee and getting up to join her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jay-” She begins softly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before she could finish, his phone buzzes. She gives him a pleading look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine.” He groans, drying his hands and goes to his phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jason!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dick’s voice could be heard all the way to the kitchen where Charlie blinked in surprise; Jason simply tilts his head away from the phone and raises his eyebrows at her. She shrugs in response and quickly walks to her room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell? I’ve been calling you all morning! Where are you?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m out. Why?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alfred’s been looking for you all morning and Bruce needs all of us for a briefing in 30 minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s it about?” He says tiredly, leaning on the back of the couch.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t know?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously? Huh, must really be something if B didn’t tell even you. I’ll be there in a few.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He quickly hangs up, says goodbye to Charlie, takes his card, and heads to the Cave.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was quiet; a little too quiet. And dark.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?” Jason says, cautiously entering and making his way up to the Manor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alfred? Bruce? Dick? Anyone?” He calls as he enters the den.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, a light switches on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Surprise!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Confetti and streamers blur his vision as the sound of party horns fill his ears.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha-What? What!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy Birthday, Little Wing!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dick envelops him in a surprise, albeit tense, hug and Bruce places a hand on his shoulder as he blindly looks around the room; everyone was smiling, or at least trying to. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Blondie rushes towards him and places a party hat on his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, hey, whatcha got there?” She asks, quickly taking his card from him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, that’s sweet, who's it from?” Dick says as he and the others eagerly crowd around to see it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No one you need to worry about.” Jason responds, snatching his card back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What is that you’re wearing on your wrist,Todd?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you were the type to wear jewelry.” Replacement says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not jewelry.” Jason says, glaring at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah? So what is it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nunya.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No one dignify that.” Dick tiredly cuts in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Master Jason, you have tickets to The Phantom of the Opera in your card!” Alfred exclaims. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow he had the card in his hand and both him and Bruce were reading it intensely.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We should go!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s only two of them.” Jason interrupts, hoping to discourage them from the current topic.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s okay, I’ll just pay for everyone else.” Bruce pipes up, almost too enthusiastically, yet not being able to hide the restrained underline in his voice. “It’ll be fun.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, okay? Here, Alfie.” Jason says, giving the other ticket to the elder before tentatively taking his card back once more and going to get changed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’d really wanted to go with Charlie. At least it wouldn’t be awkward as all hell with her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He tiredly begins to text her as he buttons up his shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>-------------------------------</p>
<p>
  <span>J-money: Hey. Bad news.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oompa Loompa: Tyler Perry quitting acting bad news? Or Fleetwood Mac disbanding bad news?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>J-money: I won’t be able to see Phantom with you. My, um, family found the tickets and,well, we’re going together.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oompa Loompa: What?! Dude, that’s awesome!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>J-money: You’re not mad?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oompa Loompa: Of course not! You’re spending time with your family. How could I ever be mad at you for that?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>J-money: I’ll make it up to you.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oompa Loompa: Don’t worry about it. Just have fun. I’ll see you later.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason sighs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“All right, showtime.” He mutters before making his way downstairs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alfred gives him a look that he is somewhat afraid to identify as he joins them by the door. The air is thick with tension, and there’s only four of them there right now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘This is gonna be fucking hell.’</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry if the text parts seemed kinda wonky. I enjoyed writing them too much to not, y'know, take them out, so...</p>
<p>Anyways...</p>
<p>Thanks for reading!❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 14: Black Bird</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As Jared Keeso once said, a la Letterkenny, "You don't fuck with tradition."</p>
<p>Even if it kinda hurts because the only other person who did it with you is dead.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Taking a quick break from the fluff.</p>
<p>I feel that it's one thing to say goodbye, but it's another to have these traditions that are there, that you didn't even really have the chance to observe, but now you can.</p>
<p>Idk if I'm making any sense.</p>
<p>As usual, no beta</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hey Dad.” Charlie says as she approaches the grave. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sinking, all consuming feeling that she had come to associate with the place settles into her core. It was right before sunrise when she'd arrived with a bouquet of sunflowers and an old guitar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry I haven’t been here for a while. I got ya your favorite.” She says, taking a knee.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She places the flowers in front of the headstone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I still miss you, but it’s getting better now; thanks to my friends. I wish we could have an actual conversation, but…" She takes a deep breath Anyway, I borrowed a guitar from one of my tenants- don’t worry, I don't even charge anything. I’m kinda rusty, but we don’t fuck with tradition. So just be patient with me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She begins playing Black Bird to the best she can based on her memory. She’s surprised she actually remembers the cords and lyrics; her voice is barely heard above the guitar, just as she preferred. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Afterwards, she then plays ‘The Greatest Discovery’ before wishing him a happy birthday and getting up to begin the day.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She had messaged all of her friends, tenants, and business associates that she would be out all day and won’t be back until well into the night. Morgan, of course, wanted to know more- but failed. Jason was the only person who knew what was going on since he’d already seen the grave; and she knew he’d never tell anyone without her permission. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not that she didn’t want, or trust, anyone else to know. It’s just that- she knew he’d want her to move on and embrace life to the fullest. And talking/thinking extensively about one’s dead dad was kinda counterproductive. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But she couldn’t help it. He really was the most important person in the world to her; if it wasn’t for him, she’d be a thousand times more miserable. Even those seven years were more preferable compared to the alternative. And knowing her, if she talked more about it with anyone else, she’d annoy them; she’s already annoying Jason. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking of which. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes she worries about him. He should be sleeping. Last time she checked, he’d have usually finished patrol about a couple hours ago.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lakeside Prospect Park was always the first place they went; watching the sunrise by the lake was always mellowing and set the mood for a great day. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sun's rays beat down the creeping melancholy that had begun to spread through her bones.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Afterwards is Tom’s, a traditional American diner that’d been around since 1936. They’d always loved coming here because it was cozy, reasonably priced, and near the Brooklyn Botanic Garden.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That and they make some damn good pancakes</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She thinks to herself as the waitress behind the bar places a plate of chocolate chip pancakes with a side of bacon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Charlie says, giving the older woman a small grin, which the latter returns along with a faint "You’re welcome", before she digs in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Normally, she would never order black coffee; she hates it too much. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But since it was her old man’s birthday, she had to make it feel like he was there in some way. How he could actually like the stuff, she could never understand. So when the waitress- Mary, comes back to refill her cup, she politely, but quickly, declines.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a full stomach, and a satisfactory tip left behind, Charlie makes her way to her next destination.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Botanical Garden always bought a calm introspective that occasionally kinda bored her; this was not one of those times. Maybe it was the openness of everything, as opposed to the tightly packed-ness of the city; not that she hated the city. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes, she just needed space.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Or maybe it was because she didn't need to worry about the plants randomly mutating and trying to kill her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Next is the Brooklyn Museum, then a movie, a bout in Coney Island, and finally, Central Park, which was the longest commute of the day so far. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Firstly, she needed lunch. There was one specific hot dog cart that they knew by name where the vendor was a Brooklyn native and who was now in his later years, and she would be damned if she went anywhere else.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’know, th’was a man an’ his daughter tha’ always came ‘round ‘ere thi’ time of yea. You kinda look like hah.” He said as he fixed her hot dog. “She woul’ even order hah dog like you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yea?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yea. Haven’t seen them’in a while tho’. ‘S a shame. They’ere nice.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe they’ll come back som’day. Wh’nows.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yea. Wh’knows.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She gives him a small smile and pays generously for her hot dog.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Memories flood the back of her head as she makes her way to their bench in Cherry Hill.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She and her dad running around Coney Island, trying to win as many carnival games as possible. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her dad ending up in a mini feud with a fish of all things.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She can't help but feel weird as she sits and eats; like she's trapped in a dream where, any minute now, everything is going to melt away and leave her trapped in a blank space.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sighs and finishes her food before finding a quiet spot for her to play thanks to muscle memory. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Satisfied and tired, she then goes to the Rose Center for Earth and Space, where she yet again swallows down the feeling of melancholy as she remembers how psyched her dad would get in every exhibit no matter how many times they went. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then she heads to a music shop to fix up the guitar she borrowed and get a new bag for it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, she goes back to the cemetery to leave some souvenirs from Coney Island on her father’s grave before going to the diner that she and Jason went to once to eat dinner and heading back to Gotham. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, the first thing she does there is return the guitar with the bag- both the new and old ones.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not wanting to go home just yet, she spends at least 4 more hours in her workshop until Jason comes to bring her home.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, despite the vague melancholy.</p>
<p>If there's anyone reading from New York, or enjoys the Brooklyn accent, I am so sorry.</p>
<p>Thanks for reading!❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 15: Good Vibrations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Because when there's nothing else to really do, you have a beach day.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Aand we're back to the lighthearted fluff.</p>
<p>Hope you guys are okay and taking care of yourselves.</p>
<p>As usual, no beta</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Charlie’s phone buzzes just as she wakes up. Slightly opening an eye, she unlocks her phone and reads the group text.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgana The Great 💖: Beach Day Today!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She slowly blinks and sits up to reread the text.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Sergeant: Coolio.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie after 🏭: What time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgana The Great 💖: 12:30. I’ll be there in a couple hours.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Sergeant: I’ll grab breakfast on the way!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pretty Boy: I’ll have to meet you guys there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgana The Great 💖: Aww, boo. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie after 🏭: Sure! See you there!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>--About 2 Hours Later--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, looking forward to seeing Jason shirtless?” Morgan asks, taking a sip from her cup of coffee and swiveling side-to-side in her seat at the breakfast bar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie gives her a look and flips her off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, c’mon. Don’t be like that.” Serge says, amused.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t hear a no.” Morgan says in a sing-song voice as she gets up to put her cup in the sink.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut it.” Charlie warns, pointing at her best friend.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, don’t worry Cookie.” Morgan cooes, coming around and draping an arm over Charlie’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be completely starstruck after seeing you in your bathing suit. Which reminds me, which one are you wearing?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <a href="https://images.app.goo.gl/NXjLxyPLTrJhDZiD6">
    <span>The dinosaurs</span>
  </a>
  <span>.” Charlie responds in a defeated tone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooh! That one is soo cuute on you! With the double wire octangular sunglasses?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice.” Serge says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right?!” Morgan agrees.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What about you guys?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t go wrong with simple swim trunks.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m thinking about going with my </span>
  <a href="https://images.app.goo.gl/eYfyS1eGGNzSF7ti8">
    <span>yellow, wrap halter bikini</span>
  </a>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fancy.” Serge says in a low voice that makes Morgan blush</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed.”  Charlie says, making a smug face and looking between her two friends.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Morgan says quickly as she grabs her bag and pushes Charlie towards her room, “time to get changed.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, when are you gonna tell Jason about your crush on him?” Morgan asks as they begin to put on their bathing suits.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know, when are you gonna tell Serge you wanna jump his bones?” Charlie retorts, slipping on a pair of ripped, high waisted jean shorts after she’s done with her bathing suit. “Or did you tell him already?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan reddens from her neck to the tips of her ears.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?! Psh. Wha-! Psh. Shut up!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan throws one of Charlie’s pillows at her head as the latter gives her a smug grin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>--1:00 pm--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Pumpkin, where’s your boyfriend.” Morgan asks as they lounge on their beach blankets under their beach umbrella.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“One, it’s only been thirty minutes. And two, you should worry about keeping track of yours before he ends up by the pier.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This earns a glare from Morgan, to which Charlie responds with an especially smug look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He isn’t here yet?” Serge asks, having just come from the ocean and was grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it’s only been thirty minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what I said!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah.” Morgan huffs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just then, they hear a quiet commotion and turn around to see what’s going on. Charlie’s breath almost catches in her throat as her eyes widen; it was Jason. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course it was Jason.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had gotten out of a fancy, albeit old-looking, car and was walking towards them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His swim shirt looked like it was, at least, two sizes too small, and his backpack was slung casually over one shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweet mother of God.” Charlie whispers to herself as he draws nearer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha! Good luck!" Morgan says as she takes a sip from her water bottle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, God.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She thinks to herself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, guys!” He calls as soon as he spots them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They awkwardly wave to him and he makes his way to them; a large, toothy grin breaks out on his face the closer he gets.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry I’m late.” He says, setting his bag down and sitting next to Charlie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t worry. ‘S no big deal.” Charlie responds, slightly looking over her sunglasses.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you guys go in yet?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not me and Charlie.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you put sunscreen on yet?” Charlie asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serge and Morgan share an amused look as the other two talk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, my kinda grandpa made sure that I put it on before we left.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie quirks an eyebrow in amusement.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, whatever."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t say anything.” She responds airily, looking away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, I want to go in.” Morgan says, leaning on Charlie’s back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie sighs and turns to Jason to non-verbally ask him if he wanted to join them while removing her sunglasses. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She then gets up and carries Morgan, piggy-back, to the water with Jason ambling next to them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>--1 Hour Later--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After having had a chicken fight, and a water war, Charlie trudges back to their spot to grab a bottle of water and sit for a bit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She dries her hands on Morgan's towel, puts her sunglasses back on, and digs through her bag for the book she packed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She is so absorbed in the story, she barely notices Jason joining her until she feels his jaw on her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatcha reading, Short Stuff?” He asks in a low voice next to her ear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her voice fails her when she wants to answer, so she simply shows him the cover.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah.” He slightly nods. “Didn’t take you for the Carroll type.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She gives him a look of disbelief as the butterflies in her stomach flew the coop.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What type did you take me for?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason shrugs and begins reading over her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stunned, Charlie slightly shakes her head before joining him. At one point, Jason drapes his arm over her shoulder and holds the book while resting his head against hers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m hungry.” Morgan says suddenly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The duo’s heads snap up in surprise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I mean, there’s a couple fruit bowls and lettuce wraps in the cooler.” Charlie responds dubiously. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She grabs a wrap and looks at them with a peculiar smirk before removing the covering and biting in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s she up to?.” Jason questions in Charlie’s ear with his arm still draped around her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, that’s her ‘I’ve already done something and you’re gonna be pissed’ smirk.” Charlie answers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You guys are looking cozy.” Serge says, having just come from the water and grabbing a wrap.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie and Jason respond by flipping him the bird.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow. Tou-chy.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Which reminds me, when did you two hook up, again?” Charlie asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The smirks instantly disappear from Serge and Morgan’s faces.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy Shit!” Jason chuckles before looking at Charlie like a kid who'd just won an impressive prize.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Told you.” Charlie says, poking him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry I ever doubted you!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You guys suck.” Morgan mutters.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aww.” Charlie responds with a fake pout.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No need to be hurtful.” Jason joins in, looking back at the other two with faux melancholy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They smirk at each other.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pizza for our hurt feelings? I think I saw a place nearby.” Jason smoothly asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if we could go to the ice-cream shop next door afterwards.” Charlie replies in a serious manner.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Deal.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously?” Morgan asks as they begin to get ready to go.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, we’ll get you guys a couple slices.” Charlie says, slinging her bag across her shoulders and leaving with Jason.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---1 Hour Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After having had some of the cheesiest pizza they’d ever eaten (they didn't forget the other two, who were probably making out by now), and chocolate dipped waffle cones with double scoops of their favorite ice creams, they take a little detour to a kiosk selling knick knacks and handmade items. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, check it out,” Charlie snorts, showing him a small figure of a whale and a fish wearing sunglasses with the phrase, 'We’re having a Whale of a time. Fish you were here.' underneath them. “Isn’t it awesome?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he says, chuckling while taking it. “Just the perfect amount of corny and charming.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As she looks at some other trinkets while something catches Jason’s eye.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Soo...wha’d you get?” Charlie asks as they walk back, slightly leaning to try to catch a glimpse of what was in the bag that Jason was holding. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just-stuff.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I see?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's just knicknacks. Just really boring stuff." He says, shifting the bag to his other hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Noticing this, she gives him an amused and perplexed look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay then, weirdo.” She says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going back in.” Charlie announces as soon as they reach Morgan and Serge. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She swiftly puts down her bag, takes off her shorts, sandals, and shirt, and all but power walks to the water; only to get distracted by the seashells. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was so busy picking them up and examining them, she forgot entirely about the fact that she didn’t have any pockets. She dumbly blinks at her full hands before looking to see where she could set them down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Here, give ‘em to me.” She hears Jason’s voice approach from behind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She silently obeys once he’s close enough and he tucks them in his swim trunk's pockets before sitting down next to her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Soon enough they forget about the seashells and begin to have multiple conversations about everything and nothing; like they usually do. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As they talk, she subconsciously starts to draw in the sand; from tiny doodles, to complex equations. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Jason asks about them, Charlie simply shrugs and explains that she’d only seen them a couple times in her father’s study and had no idea what they were for.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe they’re for something that can make you taller.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t. Be. Fucking. Rude.” She responds, lightly slapping his shoulder and arm on every pause.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He snickers at her assault and stills her hands; she makes an ‘adorable’ angry face at this, which makes him laugh even more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, c’mon Short Stuff.” He cooes. "Why don't we go cool down?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She squeaks in surprise as he lifts her by her arms and slings her over his shoulder before wading into the water. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He moves to set her down, but then keeps her held up with her back against his chest as he continues going deeper; his arms were gently wrapped around her stomach like a child with their favorite teddy bear, keeping her secure as she lazily hung there as if she were a cat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once they stop, she cranes her head back and gives him a questioning look to which he gives a soft smile before gently holding her tighter. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her heart beats a little faster at this as he lets out a content sigh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a while,they go back to the shore in that manner, earning haughty looks from Morgan and Serge upon their return. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They wordlessly flip the two off and go to sit down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait!” Morgan exclaims before they could do so.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Jason groans, the deep rumble of his voice causes small vibrations in his chest which oddly comforts Charlie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sand Castle.” Morgan replies in a ‘duh’ voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The both of them heave a sigh, groan, and head back towards the water. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as they reach the spot, Jason unceremoniously lets her go and she, thinking that since she’s already on her way down, she might as well just land on her knees, was in the middle of doing so when Jason’s hands shot out and soften her descent.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, my God, you have dad reflexes!” She exclaims, looking up at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How could you say that?!” He responds, somewhat offended, as he sits next to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s true.” She says innocently.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” She says, gently patting him on the head, “dad reflexes are good.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks.” He responds softly with a gentle smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do-” Morgan interrupts, settling across from Charlie with Serge next to her. “Jason and Serge, you two start digging. I’ll gather the materials. And Charlie will oversee everything.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She then sets off towards her task, leaving no room for discussion. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It takes 30 minutes, several piles of dry and wet sand, handfuls of seashells, about 3 separate arguments, and all three of them being covered head to toe in sand, but they have an amazing sandcastle, complete with a sand-dragon and moat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They quickly take a couple pictures before it could be destroyed and pack up to head back to Charlie’s; as usual.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---55 Minutes Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, quickie-Q. Why do you still have that Bunsen burner?” Morgan asks, drying her hair from having just taken her shower.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes they like to see some sweet-ass chemistry stuff after the session.” Charlie responds, referring to the kids she tutors, while digging into her s’mores supply that she brought a couple days ago.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, you’re such a pushover.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm.You kinda are.” Serge interjects.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, she’s just a massive nerd.” Jason smoothly intercedes on Charlie’s behalf.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you!” Charlie exclaims, opening the bag of marshmallows as Jason ignites the burner.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Takes one to know one.” Morgan mutters, picking a skewer up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sticks and stones, Morg.” Jason replies.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie begins roasting her marshmallow as the two go back and forth and quickly makes her s’more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! Foul Play! No s’moring until we’re all ready!” Morgan says, pointing at Charlie, who had just finished making her first one.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie simply bites into the treat while staring straight at Morgan who quickly lunges at her, only to be stopped halfway by Serge.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’know,” Jason whispers in Charlie’s ear as he takes a seat next to her, “one of these days, I think she’s really gonna maul you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe so…” Charlie responds, biting into her s’more again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After 3 hours, the four of them end up falling asleep on top of each other; or more like Serge and Morgan fall asleep in a tangled mess, while Jason cuddles Charlie, whose foot is constrained by Morgan and his is used as a pillow by Serge. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To summarize, almost all of them had at least one limb that was asleep when they woke up the next morning; except Morgan.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!</p>
<p>Thanks for reading!❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 16: Radio Ga Ga</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Feelings are discussed...but not between the people who actually need to have a discussion.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's ya girl, back at it again!</p>
<p>I hope everyone's been staying safe.</p>
<p>Quick Warning: I used a translator app for the Russian in this chapter and I'm not sure of how accurate it is...so sorry to anyone who might speak Russian.</p>
<p>As always, no beta</p>
<p>Hope you guys enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If there was one thing Charlie enjoyed doing more than being in her workshop or hanging out with her friends, it was spending time with the members of her community. (</span>
  <b>Her</b>
  <span> community! Can you believe it?!)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Watching Telenovelas with the abuelas every Saturday morning, checking to see if there’s anything that someone needs help with, making sure that the building is up to code and updated, making sure that the businesses that she’s (accidently) financing are okay, making sure that the generator is working to the best of its ability (of course, with a trustworthy person with her because there’s no way in hell she’s going down there by herself), checking the security systems, and tutoring some of the neighborhood kids. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All of them gave her a sense of accomplishment akin to building new projects that she came up with on her own, along with another feeling that she only got with her dad; of warmth and home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She loved Gotham. It was home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, it was hectic (what, with all the villains breaking out of Arkham every other day), and a bit noisy, and kinda messed up...But it's home. It’s where she strangely feels safe; way more than she could ever feel in that old place (should she even call it a home?).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just as that thought finishes, just as she closes the door to her apartment, a place of her own,after a somewhat long day, the HAM radio fires up and a message sounds out; Charlie rushes to write it down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Gotham City Central. Third phone on the left. Sunset.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie sighs and straightens herself, running her hand through her hair and letting her fingers get tangled in her soft curls. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was in 45 minutes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She quickly changes into clothes more suited for going out, buries her phone and wallet into her pockets after hunting for them, puts on her helmet after checking the windows, grabs Maurice and her keys, and heads out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She gets there with less than a minute to spare and picks up on the third ring.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Моя крошка?” Her grandmother’s voice sounds from the other side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Да бабушка. Это я.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“О, мой маленький! Я так по тебе скучал! Вы звучите так выросли!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of her grandmother’s voice makes her eyes water.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Я тоже по тебе скучала.” Her voice cracks prompting her to quickly clear her throat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Как вы дружите? Как все?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Они великолепны. Все здорово. Как россия? Это странно без дедушки?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Это нормально. Странно без твоего деда здесь. Но, по крайней мере, мне не нужно выходить на улицу и смотреть, как он борется с каким-то бедным животным.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Вы ненавидели это, когда он сделал это.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They both did.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Но ты в порядке, верно?” Charlie asks in a low voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He may have passed away before she was imprisoned...But it was years and years of marriage. That’s not something someone could just get over in 8-9 years. At least, she didn't think so.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Я в порядке, малыш. Я обещаю.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie sighs in relief.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Хотя, я бы почувствовал себя еще лучше, если бы ты сказал мальчику, что он тебе нравится.” Her grandma continued nonchalantly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie throws her head back and groans, alarming a couple passerbys.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Нет, я не буду.” She says after she’s done.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Почему бы и нет? Что вам терять?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Действительно большая дружба и мое достоинство.” Charlie answers flatly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Это не достаточно веские причины.” </span>
  <span>Her grandma responds. “Если он не любит вас и хочет отказаться от отношений, которые вы разделяете, то он идиот, и я был прав, что не доверял ему.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Это значит.” Charlie mutters before continuing. “А мои достоинства?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Любой с сердцем не посмеет над тобой посмеяться.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A tiny, bashful smile forms on Charlie’s face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Спасибо бабушка.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Конечно. Все для тебя, моя маленькая.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a noise in the background; someone had come in and was talking to her grandmother about something.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“О, мне нужно идти, малышка. Но я скоро свяжусь с тобой, хорошо?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Хорошо. </span>
  <span>Я люблю тебя, бабушка.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> Her eyes begin to water again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her grandma kisses the air in front of the phone and she returns the gesture before hanging up the phone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A tear runs down her cheek and is quickly, and roughly, wiped away as she lets out a shaky breath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tries to will away the ache in her chest and act in a way her grandmother would approve. But it’s just too damn hard; knowing that the only living family member that she’s close to, that loves her, is so far out of her reach.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So she goes to the other one. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ride is long and more tiring than usual (Maybe because she was already tired to begin with). But she gets there nonetheless; with sunflowers in her hands, her hair in disarray, and clothes disheveled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Dad.” She begins, squatting down before placing the flowers on the grave.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I just talked to grandma. She sounds ok. Or more like she says she’s ok. I don’t think it was a good idea for her to go to Russia of all places...but, hey.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She shrugs, then sighs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Everyone’s pretty ok. Tommy got ‘A’s on his History and Math tests. Telenovela Saturdays are as fun as always. Morgan is still trying to get me to go to more parties with her and Serge. Jason’s…” Her voice trails off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s great. As usual. Although, I am worried about him. I think he gets, like, three hours of sleep. And on his days off, he always helps me with my stuff, I don’t think he really ever does anything for himself… I’m getting off track. I just really missed you guys. You, grandma, and grandpa were huge parts of my life and it sucks ass that we’re not together.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She squints, looking around. It had been a while since the sun set, yet, of course, she could hear the city as vibrant as ever. As if day and night bore no difference. ‘The City That Never Sleeps’ indeed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’know, it’s really starting to feel like home. I think you’d kinda like it.Corrupted? Yes. Messed up? Yup. But...it’s home. A home I should probably be getting back to. So, I guess this is bye for now. Love you to Pluto and back, Space-Man.” She says in a tender voice before gently kissing the tombstone and getting up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was probably the first time she didn’t go to the usual diner after visiting her dad. Instead, like she said she was going to do, she went straight home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How Morgan managed to get into her apartment was beyond her. But when she opened the door, there she was, lounging on the couch and eating her out of house and home. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Should I even ask?” Charlie drawls as she enters her home, resting Maurice in its usual spot.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you didn’t want me to make a copy of your key, you shouldn’t have taken me to the hardware store with you, babe.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you get them to make you a copy? It was in my pocket the whole time!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, your back pocket.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie nods as if to say, ‘Fair enough’ and moves to join her best friend on the couch. Honestly, she was actually kind of happy that Morgan made a copy. Their friendship was tighter than her’s with anyone else and the idea of Morgan always being in her life made her heart swell.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How was your day? Tell anyone you like them?” Morgan says in a teasing manner.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, come on!” Charlie groans in exasperation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t just keep it bottled up-” Morgan continued. “What if he likes you back, which he does, btw, but because you’re hesitating, decides that you must not like him back and moves on to some random bitch.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa! Hey! That’s a derogatory term.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan rolls her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I just don’t want you to miss out on something that could be great. If you two work out together, then great, awesome. If you don’t, then oh well. But you owe it to yourself to put your feelings out there instead of letting life pass you by. And besides, I remember a certain individual claiming that friends don’t lie or keep things from each other.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie whines and slides off the couch onto the floor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw. It’ll be okay, Cookie.” Morgan scoots close enough to her and lovingly pats her head. “And if he makes you feel dumb about your feelings, I’ll go all ‘The Bride’ on him. But you gotta treat yo self. Emotionally.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a pause as Morgan stops petting her hair.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And physically. When’s the last time you got your hair done?” She questioned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“When I got it dyed. Why?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell?! Are you joking? You have, like, really nice hair. You need to let it be spoiled and flourish.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks?” Charlie responds, her voice dripping with uncertainty.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m serious. You have, like, some delicious curlage when you leave it alone.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie pouts, thinking. “Have you been watching Queer Eye?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn it. I thought we were gonna watch it together.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I couldn’t wait. Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie sighs. Before she could resign herself to paying attention to what was currently on the tv, Morgan spoke again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m hungry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You only have snacks.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not!” Charlie exclaims indignantly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While, yes, she did have a large assortment of what could be considered to be snacks, she also preferred to make home-cooked meals, and kept her kitchen fully stocked with supplies/ingredients.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not my fault you don’t want to cook.” She continued.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Cooking takes too long.” Morgan whines. “And it’s hot.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie huffs before pulling out her phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Chinese, please.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie sends her a look. “Fine.” She drawls, turning her attention to her phone once again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It arrives quickly, despite how large of an order it is, and she tips generously before gently shutting the door and digging in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yup, Gotham was home. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Моя крошка? =&gt; My little one?</p>
<p>Да бабушка. Это я. =&gt; Yes, grandma. It’s me.</p>
<p>О, мой маленький! Я так по тебе скучал! Вы звучите так выросли! =&gt; Oh, my little one! I've missed you so much! You sound so grown!</p>
<p>Я тоже по тебе скучала. =&gt; I’ve missed you too.&gt;&gt; Her voice cracks prompting her to quickly clear her throat.</p>
<p>Как вы дружите? Как все? =&gt; How are your friends? How is everything?&gt;&gt;</p>
<p>Они великолепны. Все здорово. Как россия? Это странно без дедушки? =&gt; They're great. Everything's great. How's Russia? Is it weird without grandpa?</p>
<p>Это нормально. Странно без твоего деда здесь. Но, по крайней мере, мне не нужно выходить на улицу и смотреть, как он борется с каким-то бедным животным. =&gt; It's...okay. It does feel odd without your grandfather here. But, at least I don't have to go out in the cold and watch him wrestle some poor animal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Вы ненавидели это, когда он сделал это. =&gt; You did hate it when he did that.</p>
<p>Но ты в порядке, верно? =&gt; But you're okay, right?</p>
<p>Я в порядке, малыш. Я обещаю. =&gt; I'm okay, little one. I promise.</p>
<p>Хотя, я бы почувствовал себя еще лучше, если бы ты сказал мальчику, что он тебе нравится. =&gt; Although, it would make me feel even better if you've told the boy you like him.</p>
<p>Нет, я не буду. =&gt; No, I will not.</p>
<p>Почему бы и нет? Что вам терять? =&gt; Why no? What do you have to lose?</p>
<p>Действительно большая дружба и мое достоинство. =&gt; A really great friendship and my dignity.</p>
<p>Это не достаточно веские причины. =&gt; Those aren't good enough reasons.</p>
<p>Если он не любит вас и хочет отказаться от отношений, которые вы разделяете, то он идиот, и я был прав, что не доверял ему. =&gt; If he doesn't like you back, and is willing to abandon the relationship you two share, then he's an idiot and I was right to not trust him.</p>
<p>Это значит. =&gt; That’s mean.</p>
<p>А мои достоинства? =&gt; And my dignity?</p>
<p>Любой с сердцем не посмеет над тобой посмеяться. =&gt; Anyone with a heart wouldn't dare make fun of you.</p>
<p>Спасибо бабушка. =&gt; Thanks grandma.</p>
<p>Конечно. Все для тебя, моя маленькая. =&gt; Of course. Anything for you, my little one.</p>
<p>О, мне нужно идти, малышка. Но я скоро свяжусь с тобой, хорошо? =&gt; Oh, I have to go, little one. But I'll contact you soon, okay?</p>
<p>Хорошо. =&gt; Okay.</p>
<p>Я люблю тебя, бабушка. =&gt; I love you, grandma.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As always, thanks for reading ❤❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 17: Changes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jason realizes just how much things have changed for him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>What up?!</p>
<p>I hope you guys are being safe.</p>
<p>To anyone who celebrates, Happy Easter! </p>
<p>And to anyone who doesn't, I hope you have a really chill day!</p>
<p>Honestly, this chapter is kinda short. I hope that what needed to be conveyed is conveyed.</p>
<p>As always, no beta</p>
<p>Hope y'all enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>His safe-house had always felt like a necessary, functional home; one of which he held some, for lack of a better word, fond memories and feelings. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yet, as he lounged on the couch reading, it felt empty. Cold. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This really is beginning to be too much. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At first, it was nice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arty and Biz were off doing who knows what, and the other members of the Outlaws had other stuff to take care of, Talia was being Talia, and there was no way in hell he was going to stick around the manor and its inhabitants (except Alfred) for longer than necessary (although he found himself staying there for days at a time). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So the company was...nice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But now, it seemed like he was beginning to be codependent. And that was the last thing he needed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No matter how warm she made him feel.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He snaps his book shut with a small groan and sits up; focusing, instead, on the friendship bracelet that was ever present on his wrist, and worries his lip in thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn't know how long he loses himself in his head for as his phone ringing snaps him back to reality. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” He answers on the third ring.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was Artemis. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Something about assassins and a magician...Just the distraction he needed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He begins to send Charlie a quick text, telling her that he was going out of town, when he stops.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>do I really-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and goes to delete the message, but his thumb hits send instead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Great, now my own body’s not listening to me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He thinks as he lets out a tired sigh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not wanting to dwell on this fact any longer, he goes to ready his supplies and pack up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---Several Hours Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you paying attention, Little One?” Artemis questions, having just come up with a plan of attack.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her voice breaks him out of a lull he didn’t even know he was in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you are distracted, we will go on without you.” She continues before he could answer, referring to herself, Bizarro, and Eddie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was right, they didn’t need him if he was going to be distracted. They need him to be focused, to be their leader.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The magician and assassins were wreaking havoc thanks to, what turned out to be, a feud between the two groups. If they didn't stop it soon-.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not to mention, he was responsible for them, for their lives, no matter what they think.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was not going to fuck everything up for some crush or some pipe dream.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn't. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, thanks for reading! ❤❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 18: Take A Chance (On Me)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nerves are on the fritz, feelings get confessed, and decisions are made.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey!</p>
<p>Another short-ish chapter.</p>
<p>As always, no beta.</p>
<p>I hope you guys enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Her heart was beating so loud and fast, she could swear everyone in the cafe could hear it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe this is a bad idea</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She thinks to herself as she fiddles with her fingers, allowing them to interact with the rough wood of the cafe bar. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He just got back from his thing...Yeah, this is a bad idea</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But she knew, deep down, that it had to be done anyway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She takes a deep breath and tries to still herself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I should’ve just sent a text</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She takes another deep breath. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Everything is too loud.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I could still back out.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The air in the room tightens and she could swear that the capacity had been reached, yet it seemed that more people just kept coming.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What, is this the only cafe in town?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ring from the bell on the door somehow pierces through the noise and Charlie snaps her head up towards the sound. It was Jason. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, God</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She thought with dread as his eyes caught her and he made his way over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit, shit, shit! I can’t do this.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her heart beats faster with each step he takes until it’s the only thing she can hear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” She responds breathlessly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?” He asks, his inquisitive gaze pierces through her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm. Just thinking. How did your...thing go?” Charlie says, her words slightly stumbling over each other.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, um, great! You?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m great. Yeah, um, almost blew my lab up-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason quirks his eyebrow at this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But, everything’s great.” She recovers quickly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before clearing his throat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s actually something that I need to tell you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” She says, surprised. “Um, me too. You first.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s ok, you first.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Crap. Crap, crap, crap.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She takes a deep breath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. I know this could be super awkward...so I’m just gonna rip the bandaid right off-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She pauses, taking a deep breath and anxiously tucks her hair behind her ear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I like you. Like, a lot. Like, like like you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes widen; allowing a bit more of the breathtaking green to show while the rest of his face is unreadable making her somehow even more nervous.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A-And I know that you may not like me back. An-and that’s ok. I just thought you should know. Since, y’know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The silence is deafening; she could swear she could hear every single atom split and get stitched back together in the universe. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The seconds ticked away with the pace of a 3-toed sloth as his eyes bore an emotion she was too scared to try and pinpoint; no matter how strong it was shown.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you please say your thing?” She begs softly, breaking the numbing silence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She can’t tell if he had heard as he stays silent for a few more seconds; she cannot help but to fidget as he seemed to peer into her very soul. Damn those eyes of his. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, he speaks; albeit, so quietly she could barely hear him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t-We can’t hang out anymore.” He says, looking down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wait, what?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tries to process what he just said, but a white noise is filling her head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She looks down as her eyes slowly start to water.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Is all she can manage out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It feels like everything around her is crashing into microscopic pieces. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tentatively looks back up and meets his eyes.That emotion from before lights his eyes up; and she knows-or more like she realizes what it is. Sorrow mixed with regret. And it breaks her heart more than that sentence ever could.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok.” She says with renewed purpose. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’d be damned if she’d makes this worse than necessary; neither of them are already having a good time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re still friends, though. Right?” She asks, hoping that she at least has that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah, we are.” He responds softly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She gives him a soft smile and nods before ducking her head and retucking her hair.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” she says after a short pause, “I guess I should go, now.” She finishes, giving him a tight-lipped half-smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He tenses as she gets up to leave.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“May I-?” He whispers, slightly opening his arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” She responds softly, walking into his arms and allowing them to envelope her; his scent, that she’s always loved, encases her as she hugs him back as tightly as she can.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She lightly kisses his cheek as the hug ends and she tries to not let her eyes water.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll see you around. Okay?” She says gently, offering him one last smile before taking her leave.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! ❤❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 19: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Charlie and Morgan bond in an unexpected place.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Rolls in on heelys* Good evening (she says as the sun beams down on her face)</p>
<p>I really hope you guys are staying safe!</p>
<p>Honestly, this chapter is more of a filler than anything...I just really wanted to write more of Charlie and Morgan's relationship.</p>
<p>As usual, no beta</p>
<p>I hope you guys enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“This is some bull-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Morg…” Charlie interrupts, sighing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two of them were lazing about; Charlie was lounging on the couch upside down while they were watching some random reality show when Morgan spoke up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No. No, no. The fuck he means, ‘We can’t hang out anymore but we’re still friends’?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Morgan…It’s been three days.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And after you poured your heart out to him?! I should go over there and kick his ass!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie sighs once more, righting herself and looking her best friend square in the face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“First off, I told him so that I could get it off my chest and out in the open. He has no obligation to actually reciprocate those feelings. Two, we don’t know where he lives, and it’s not really any of our business to, so kicking his ass would be impossible on multiple fronts. And three, I think he’s giving himself a worse time than you could. So can we just hang out? Please? I’m already regretting telling my grandmother.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Still silent?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You think she’s taking out a hit on him?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“God, I hope not.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’know, it’s Rich People Code™ to take a hit out on someone your fellow rich people can’t, or won’t, take a hit out on.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I, </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, hated every part of that sentence.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, I know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two get back to their afternoon and begin to forget about the subject. Suddenly, a transmission from her HAM radio taps out and she translates in her head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Tomorrow. Airport at 10:30 a.m. Bring your best friend. Pack your passports and enough clothes for only one day.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie frowns at this and casts a look over to Morgan.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, don’t look at me. You know how I feel about learning morse code. Too nerdy for me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’know...It might save your life one day…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan blows a raspberry before widening her eyes in shock while Charlie grins smugly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I spend too much time with you.” Morgan says dramatically.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So I guess you don’t wanna go with me tomorrow?” Charlie responds, pursing her lips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan rolls her eyes and hits Charlie in the face with a pillow.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---That Night---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How Morgan managed to have more than one days worth of clothes in her apartment, Charlie will never know. Yes, they had sleepovers- but this was at least 2 weeks worth of clothes! There were even dedicated spots in her closet and dresser for them. How did she not catch that before?! And the packing took too long! Way too long!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just one day, Morg!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And? So? You never know what could happen!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie throws her head back and groans at this before falling face first on top of the pile of clothes on her bed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The next morning, they wake up early (to get ready, at Morgan’s insistence), eat a light breakfast, and wait for Serge to come with Morgan’s passport and drop them off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They arrive at 10:30 sharp, which seriously impresses Charlie, and spot a greeter/transfer holding up a sign with Charlie’s name on it. They easily gain the person’s attention as they approach.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is one of you Charlotte Jones?” They ask, anxiously looking between the two girls.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That would be me.” Charlie responds, slightly lifting her free hand. “Hi.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Jones. My name is Mx. Smith.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie slightly winces at the ‘Miss Jones’ before responding.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi.This is my best friend Morgan.” Charlie says, politely gesturing to Morgan, who waved hello. “I was told to bring her?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, if you two ladies would hand over your luggage and follow me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They walk through the airport and a door leading to the runway, to a private jet. Shocked and dumbfounded, they greet the pilot and board.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I nearly did not recognize you, Charlotte.” The pilot, Miss April Jennings, said as they were getting settled in. “You’ve grown so much!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Miss Jennings. It’s nice to see you again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And you have a friend! Oh, you two ladies are in for a treat!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe we’re on a jet! Where do you think we’re going?!” Morgan says after they’ve taken off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie shrugs and makes a sound as if to say ‘I don’t know’ in response.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope it’s London. Or Prague.” She gasps and slaps a hand on Charlie’s knee. “Or Italy!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie looks at her overly excited friend in amusement.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wherever it is</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>at least it’s with Morgan</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The 7 hours and 51 minutes pass by surprisingly quickly and they arrive to their destination in the middle of the night. The flight attendant, a woman by the name of Miss Hazings, gently wakes the two and helps them out of the plane, to the awaiting Rolls Royce Ghost; the two being too sluggish to realize their surroundings.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They are taken to a hotel, where almost everyone is speaking french, and check in; Charlie stays awake and alert long enough to recognize the language she was being spoken to in,  and respond in kind, and receive the room keys. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They are then escorted to their room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their luggage is already waiting for them once they go in the door and Charlie, after sleepily offering her thanks to the staff (including a tip), finds the nearest bed and drifts into a dreamless sleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A scream pierces the air and Charlie bolts out of bed, through the...apartment? To a jubilant Morgan.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?! What is it?!” Charlie questions breathlessly, looking around for a threat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wordlessly, Morgan turns her around by her shoulders and soon the two are staring right at the Eiffel Tower.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess that answers your question from yesterday.” Charlie mutters.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re in Paris!” Morgan exclaims, holding onto Charlie’s shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The Eiffel Tower is right there!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re in Paris!” Charlie says, growing more excited.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Within seconds, the two girls are dancing around the apartment, alternating between marvelling at the features and celebrating. Their hullabaloo is disrupted, however, by a phone ringing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bonjour. C'est votre réveil matinal. Quelqu'un va bientôt se lever pour vous servir le petit-déjeuner.” A cheery voice says on the other side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bonjour. Merci beaucoup.” Charlie responds before hanging up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Food’s coming.” Charlie says to a curious Morgan, before stretching. “Imma take a shower.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“When you’re done, can you help me with my french? I’m kinda rusty.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup.” Charlie responds as she disappears with her luggage.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She finishes her shower and dresses in time for breakfast to arrive, and the two of them review Morgan’s french as they eat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as they finish, a knock sounds at the door. Charlie gazes through the peephole, at the chauffeur on the other side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bonjour. En quoi puis-je vous aider, monsieur?” Charlie questions, opening the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bonjour, mademoiselle. Je viens vous chercher, mesdames. Vous êtes Charlotte Jones et compagnie, n'est-ce pas?” The man replies.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Si, nous le sommes. Un instant, s'il vous plaît.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bien sûr que non.” He responds, allowing the two to gather their needed belongings from the table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their first stop is a little nail spa where they have mani-pedis according to their individual styles, then a hair salon, and lunch at a small cafe, before they finally arrive to a classical looking building. They enter, are greeted by the receptionist, and are escorted to the top floor, where there is a photographer and a crew ready.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bonjour ici. Laquelle d'entre vous est Charlotte Jones?" The photographer asks as he greets the two.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ça doit être moi. Bonjour.” Charlie answers while Morgan points at her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, n'es-tu pas la plus belle chose! Je m'appelle Gaspard Astier et je vais prendre quelques photos de vous, charmantes dames. D'accord?” He says with a friendly grin as he kisses their hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“D’accord!” Charlie responds, flustered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Super!” He exclaims. “Commençons la musique, mettons ces jolies filles dans un truc de leur calibre. Ce sera amusant!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The girls are ushered into dressing rooms, change into the provided clothes (which fit them like gloves and are their exact individual styles), get their makeup done, and are placed in front of the camera. A song that Charlie could’ve sworn she heard before plays throughout the studio.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“N'hésitez pas à danser, à déconner. Amusez-vous bien!” He says, getting into position.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They do as they’re told, and next thing they know, 2 hours had gone by; from mini dresses, to knee-length dresses, gowns, and finally, casual clothes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With each wardrobe change, the girls, mainly Charlie, become more confident and carefree; bouncing between dancing and posing with ease as the time ticked away. They leave in high spirits, wearing new outfits; the wardrobes that they wore in the photo shoot were sent to their hotel room upon their departure.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a trip to one of Paris’ more extravagant malls, in which they have a sponsored spree (meaning they don’t have to pay anything), they have an eight course dinner at a 5-star restaurant before finally going back to the hotel.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span><em>At least</em>, Charlie thought thought to herself as she let the warm water run down her back, washing off the rose and lavender scented suds, <em>Morgan is here. At least, I’m not alone</em>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She turns off the faucet, but remains there, lost in her mind.  A knock on the door snaps her back to reality.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you alright in there?” Morgans voice pierces through the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...Yeah. Coming out in a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok. I’m gonna order us some snacks, maybe a movie?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds great!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie laughs as she hears Morgan’s footsteps recede at a rapid rate, before grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her as she exited the shower. She quickly dries herself and gets dressed in the comfortable sweatpants and a knit slouchy tee that she had bought earlier.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As she padded to the living room, after putting her clothes in the washing machine, she hears Morgan still ordering.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You seriously don’t think we’ll eat all of that food, do you?” Charlie asks as soon as Morgan finishes and joins her on the couch, flipping through the channels.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know about you, but I definitely will.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll hold you to that.” Charlie says in a light tone with a smirk, lightly patting her best friend on the back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan didn’t last as long as she claimed she would, to Charlie’s amusement. It took about 2 hours after room service came for Morgan to sigh dramatically and slide off the couch, onto the floor; groaning as she went.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fucking. Knew it.” Charlie states, watching her friend in amusement.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan silently flips her the bird as she lays face down on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw.” Charlie coos mockingly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re an asshole.” Morgan retorts, her voice muffled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s real mean, Cherry Bomb.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>--The next day--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was probably the most beautiful guitar she had ever seen. They were touring Paris when she saw it in the shop window. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Magnifique, n'est-ce pas?” She heard a gruff voice say next to her. He was an older man, probably the shop owner. He must have seen her staring.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oui. Ça l'est. C'est la plus belle que j'aie jamais vue.” She replies, somewhat breathless.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Vous aimez la musique.” He states.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Comment ne pourrais-je pas?” Charlie gently responds.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Et tu joues.” He states again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Moins que je ne le voudrais.” She says softly, longing shining bright in her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mom made sure of that. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And she was so busy trying to make a life for herself afterwards, and helping around, to get back into it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It actually kind of broke her heart-after all, playing was probably one of the few things she loved doing more than her dad did. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At first, it was just something that her dad and her did for her grandfather, who, despite being a wrestler, and a known choker of bears, loved music-or more like one song in particular, which her dad would perform for him; later passing it down to her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But she didn’t stop there-couldn’t. Because the more she played, the more it became something else. Now it was like she was joining a conversation, one between just her and-whatever; one that made her feel less lonely when even her father was too busy; like a type of communication, more intricate and intimate than another other language she knew. And it was hers, not her dad’s, no matter how much she loved him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As she remembered how much she missed it, the longing in her eyes grew until her heart ached and tears brimmed her eyes; unaware of the shopkeeper who was now looking at her with sympathetic eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Elle est à toi.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She jumps a little, forgetting he was even there. She turns to him, shocked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Elle est à toi.” He says again, nothing but kindness shining in his eyes now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Quoi? Pourquoi?” She asks softy, confused out of her mind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Parce que vous avez besoin l'un de l'autre.” He responds with a soft smile before going into the store before she could respond..</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He quickly comes back out holding a packed guitar bag like one would a child, and holds it out to her, urging her to take it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“On ne devrait pas faire ça à l'intérieur? Où je peux payer pour elle?” She asks, concerned and alarmed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Non. Pas besoin. Elle est à toi. S'il vous plaît.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Je ne peux pas te l'enlever.” She says in a barely audible whisper, still not believing what’s happening.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“S'il vous plaît.” He pleaded, holding it out to her more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pourquoi?” She whispers once more, trying to keep her emotions in check as she tentatively took it and held it close.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Je me souviens de cette tristesse et de ce que la musique signifiait pour moi. Jouer. Ça rendait tout moins solitaire. En te regardant, je sais que tu ressens la même chose.” He explains.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She gently smiles and closes her eyes before slowly nodding.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Je ne peux toujours pas l'emmener.” She gently repeats. “S'il vous plaît.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man sighs and gives her a kind look before conceding, nodding his head before leading her to the shop. They complete the transaction and part ways amicably, of course, not before exchanging contact information. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What was that?” Morgan questions as Charlie exits the store with the guitar bag slung across her back. She had stayed back and watched the interaction. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suffice to say, she was just as, if not more, stunned as Charlie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just two akin souls exchanging something dear.” Charlie responded airily.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, whatever Shakespeare.” Morgan huffed as they continued walking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as they settled down in their apartment, Morgan whisked herself away to take a shower and Charlie eased down on the couch, clutching the guitar bag in front of her. Carefully, she slides it onto the coffee table across from her and unzips it; taking a moment to stare in awe at the guitar before gently lifting it out of the bag and onto her lap. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was made out of tropical wood, plural, and was right-handed; which would have been unfortunate for her had she not learned how to play ambidextrously. She checks to make sure it is tuned, then begins; with the song that started it all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her fingers flit skillfully across the neck and strings as she begins playing ‘As My Guitar Gently Weeps’. It was somehow less choppy than last time and she soon found herself closing her eyes, taking in the music, as she starts to sing softly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-----------</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan didn’t know if what happened today was weird in general, or just weird to her. She knew her best friend had an affinity for drawing people close to her, but today…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan sighs, turns off the faucet, gets dressed, and exits out of the bathroom to be greeted by the sound of a guitar and soft singing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As she draws nearer, the more beautiful it sounds. She reaches the source and takes a seat on the chair adjacent to the couch, carefully watching her friend.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a peaceful, yet longing look in her eyes as she played, and Morgan could barely bring herself to do, or think, anything but listen intently. Eventually, Charlie finishes and everything is so quiet and still, Morgan could swear she could hear Charlie’s heart beating.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t happen to know any T-Swift, would you?” Morgan says, breaking the silence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie turns to her with a stunned, and somewhat offended, look. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“God, no!” She exclaims.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Beiber?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie’s eyes widen as she clenches her jaw.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay! Okay!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie’s face relaxes and turns into a smirk. She then begins to play ‘Hey, Soul Sister’ while chasing her around the apartment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is abuse!” Morgan exclaims as Charlie switches to 'Hey There Delilah'.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie just keeps playing while cackling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did I take French for all four years of high school? Yes.</p>
<p>Do I hear French almost every day at home? Also yes.</p>
<p>Did I still use an app for the translation? Absolutely.</p>
<p>Bonjour. C'est votre réveil matinal. Quelqu'un va bientôt se lever pour vous servir le petit-déjeuner.---&gt; Good morning. This is your morning wake-up call. Someone will be up shortly to serve you breakfast.</p>
<p>Bonjour. Merci beaucoup. ---&gt; Good morning. Thank you very much.</p>
<p>Bonjour. En quoi puis-je vous aider, monsieur? ---&gt; Good morning. How may I help you, sir?</p>
<p>Bonjour, mademoiselle. Je viens vous chercher, mesdames. Vous êtes Charlotte Jones et compagnie, n'est-ce pas? ---&gt; Good morning, Miss. I am here to pick you two ladies up. You are Charlotte Jones and company, correct?</p>
<p>Si, nous le sommes. Un instant, s'il vous plaît. ---&gt; Yes, we are. One moment, please.</p>
<p>Bien sûr que non. ---&gt; Of course.</p>
<p>Bonjour ici. Laquelle d'entre vous est Charlotte Jones? ---&gt; Hello there. And which one of you lovely ladies is Charlotte Jones?</p>
<p>Ça doit être moi. Bonjour. ---&gt; That would be me. Hello.</p>
<p>Oh, n'es-tu pas la plus belle chose! Je m'appelle Gaspard Astier et je vais prendre quelques photos de vous, charmantes dames. D'accord? ---&gt; Oh, aren't you the prettiest thing! Well, my name is Gaspard Astier and I am going to take a few pictures of you lovely ladies. Okay?</p>
<p>D’accord! ---&gt; Okay!</p>
<p>Commençons la musique, mettons ces jolies filles dans un truc de leur calibre. Ce sera amusant! ---&gt; Let's start the music, get these lovelies into something of their caliber. This will be fun!</p>
<p>N'hésitez pas à danser, à déconner. Amusez-vous bien! ---&gt; Feel free to dance, mess around. Have fun!</p>
<p>Magnifique, n'est-ce pas? ---&gt; Beautiful, isn't it?</p>
<p>Oui. Ça l'est. C'est la plus belle que j'aie jamais vue. ---&gt; Yes. It is. It's the most beautiful one I've ever seen.</p>
<p>Vous aimez la musique. ---&gt; You love music.</p>
<p>Comment ne pourrais-je pas? ---&gt; How could I not?</p>
<p>Et tu joues. ---&gt; And you play.</p>
<p>Moins que je ne le voudrais. ---&gt; Less than I would like.</p>
<p>Elle est à toi. ---&gt; She's yours.</p>
<p>Quoi? Pourquoi? ---&gt; What? Why?</p>
<p>Parce que vous avez besoin l'un de l'autre. ---&gt; Because you two need each other.</p>
<p>On ne devrait pas faire ça à l'intérieur? Où je peux payer pour elle? ---&gt; Shouldn't we be doing this inside? Where I can pay for her?</p>
<p>Non. Pas besoin. Elle est à toi. S'il vous plaît. ---&gt; No. No need. She's yours. Please.</p>
<p>Je ne peux pas te l'enlever. ---&gt; I can't just take her from you.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>Je me souviens de cette tristesse et de ce que la musique signifiait pour moi. Jouer. Ça rendait tout moins solitaire. En te regardant, je sais que tu ressens la même chose. ---&gt; I remember that sadness, and what music meant to me. Playing. It made everything less lonely. Watching you, I know you feel the same way.</i></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <i>  <i><br/>    <i>Je ne peux toujours pas l'emmener. ---&gt; I still can't just take her.<br/>  </i></i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>  <i><br/>    <i><br/>      <i>I hope you guys enjoyed reading! ❤❤❤</i></i><br/>    </i><br/>  </i></i>
  
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 20: Buddy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A few months from Jason's POV ft. a surprising relationship development.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*rolls in on Heelys, sipping a juice box* What's good my guys, gals, and nonbinary pals? It's been a bit of a minute, huh? </p><p>I hope you homies are staying safe and not being fucking dumbasses like my fellow Floridians...</p><p>I'm gonna be doing a double drop cause...reasons</p><p>As usual, no beta!</p><p>I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was such a difficult, yet necessary, thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he watched as she walked away, it took everything in him to say ‘fuck it’, stop her, and tell her how much he liked her back. But again, it had to be done, didn’t it? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She'd once asked him if he’d ever thought about having a life outside vigilantism; it was so quiet he almost missed it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tried. He went out, met up with her and her friends, goofed off, hell, even slept over once in a while. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And look where that got him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d tried so hard to get Bruce’s and everyone else’s approval; tried to show them how much he’d changed within the past couple years. But now, because he’d fooled himself into something that he knew wouldn’t-couldn’t be real, it seems that he’d have to work twice as hard now. Not to mention he was becoming too distracted overall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His cheek stops tingling from her kiss once he finally reaches his safe-house. Looking around, it becomes less and less habitable; every fiber of his being wanted to be somewhere, anywhere else. Hell, even the Manor would be more preferable. He sighs in resignation and goes to change into comfortable clothes before settling down with a book.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---Several Weeks Later---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t mean to, honest to God.There hadn’t been any contact between them for the past few weeks, not even a check-in. Hell, he didn’t even go near her building, no matter how badly he wanted to (and god, did he want to).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then, there had been a...situation in an alley and he had gotten stabbed; so, he found himself dragging himself onto her fire escape.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” He hears her hiss as soon as she opens her window.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.” He groans as she pulls him into the apartment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She must have not heard him as she was too busy sitting him down on the couch and rushing into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here, use this to apply pressure, okay?” She says hurriedly, giving him a washcloth as he takes off his helmet before rushing off to the linen closet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He does as she says after taking his shirt off and takes a couple seconds to look around; the poster still hung in its usual place, she still kept her motorcycle against the wall by her door, the only thing new, he noticed, was an acoustic guitar that rested on a stand next to the bike. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have much time to think about it, however, because Charlie quickly came over with her giant first-aid kit and sat across from him on the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She quickly gets to work, opening the case, procuring a pair of plastic gloves, snapping them on, and readying supplies for dealing with the wound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” She breathes, looking up at him before jerking her chin towards where he was holding the washcloth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He removes it and she quickly cleans the wound before readying the needle and surgical thread.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She must have seen his surprised face, because she gave him a deadpan look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have other friends who dislike the hospital and tend to get hurt a lot .” She explains before beginning to stitch him up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can’t help but to watch her carefully as she works; noticing the fact that the blue was now completely gone from her hair, now making it its natural deep brown, and how it was a bit longer and the curls were more pronounced; how her face slightly scrunches up in concentration, how her eyelashes nearly block out her eyes from his view, how she purses her lips before biting them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets out a tired sigh and rests his head back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Almost done.” She says soothingly. “Aand-there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears a snip, then the opening of one of the cloth pads.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You got the other ones, right?” She asks, wrapping up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” He responds, lifting his head and meeting her eyes. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She simply gives him a small grin, pats his knee, and retreats back to the kitchen with his shirt and the tainted washcloth. He hears her toss the gloves in the trash and the shirt and washcloth in a hamper in the laundry room before getting something from the refrigerator.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, um, you got a guitar.” He calls out as he attends to the scrapes that littered his arms, hoping to make non-awkward small talk. While they had their silent moments, he didn’t want this to be one of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh-uh. An unexpected outcome from Morgan and I’s trip to Paris.” She says as she makes her way back to him with a water bottle. “Then again, that entire trip was unexpected.” She mumbles as she places the bottle in front of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Grandma.” She explains upon seeing his quirked eyebrow and he nods in understanding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’d talked about her grandmother a couple times, how eccentric the woman, both of her grandparents, were, so it made sense that she would send her granddaughter and her best friend to Paris after he...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You play? Or was it an impulse buy?” He asks, clearing his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do play, in fact, and it was actually given to me by the shop owner.” She answers, coming out of her room with one of her larger shirts to give to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason raises his eyebrows at this as he puts the shirt on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He saw me staring at it and tried to give it to me for free after I told him that I used to play but hadn’t been able to for a while. Don’t worry, I paid for it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Part of him wanted to hear her, but he doubted that he should even think about asking. After all, the last time he saw her, he did make her cry. And even though she said they were still friends, he still couldn’t help but to feel like he didn’t have the right. Hell, he didn’t even know how or why he was still wearing the bracelet she gave him; or more like, why she hadn’t asked him to give it back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You mind if I play you something?” She asks gently, seemingly having read his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He snaps his head back to her in surprise, unaware that he’d been staring at the guitar, and gazes into her doe-brown eyes. Without an answer, she gets up and goes to gently pick up the guitar before settling down on the chair next to the couch, near the window, with it in her lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her fingers skillfully and artfully flit across the strings and neck as she began singing, her voice soft, and comforting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackbird singing in the dead of night</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Take these broken wings and learn to fly</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All your life</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You were only waiting for this moment to arise</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackbird singing in the dead of night</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Take these sunken eyes and learn to see</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All your life</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You were only waiting for this moment to be free</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He involuntarily sighs, rests his head back, and closes her eyes as she continues.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackbird fly, blackbird fly</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Into the light of a dark black night</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackbird fly, blackbird fly</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Into the light of a dark black night</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackbird singing in the dead of night</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Take these broken wings and learn to fly</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All your life</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You were only waiting for this moment to arise</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You were only waiting for this moment to arise</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You were only waiting for this moment to arise</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turns his head towards her as she finishes and watches her carefully; a look that he’d never seen before shone bright in her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Got any more?” He questions tiredly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” She responds, giving him a smile that makes his heart beat just a little faster.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sings a couple more songs, ‘Undercover Martyn’ and ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’, both softly and with care; soothing Jason in a way only she could before playing what would be the last song of the night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If I could save time in a bottle</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The first thing that I'd like to do</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is to save every day</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Til eternity passes away</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just to spend them with you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes snap open once more to watch her. There’s a gentle look in her eyes as she plays; it seems more intimate than before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If I could make days last forever</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If words could make wishes come true</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'd save every day like a treasure and then</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Again, I would spend them with you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But there never seems to be enough time</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To do the things you want to do</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Once you find them</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I've looked around enough to know</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That you're the one I want to go</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Through time with</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They catch each other’s eyes and hold their gazes as she continues; ocean and earth interlocked in a conversation in which both of the owners were unsure of the subject.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If I had a box just for wishes</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And dreams that had never come true</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The box would be empty</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Except for the memory</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of how they were answered by you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But there never seems to be enough time</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To do the things you want to do</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Once you find them</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I've looked around enough to know</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That you're the one I want to go</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Through time with</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their gazes hold long after she finishes; the air is thick with emotion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should let you rest.” Charlie sighs, gently breaking the silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Too stunned to do anything or reply, Jason simply watches her put the guitar back on its stand and get a couple things, which turned out to be a throw blanket and a pillow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here ya go.” She says softly as she gives them to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He catches her hand as she goes to walk away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” He whispers, gently holding her hand. Her small hand that knew what it meant to work, yet still remained gentle enough to seem untouched by hardship.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks up as that same kind, fond smile from earlier graces her face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are friends for?” She replies, gently squeezing his hand before planting a small kiss on his cheek; allowing him to catch a faint whiff of coconut, hibiscus, and rose with a hint of lilac. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight-er morning.” She says as she puts the first aid-kit away and retreats to her room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He drifts off into an empty, dreamless sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---1 Week Later---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next time he spots her, is on Halloween. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was wearing an adorable spider costume and taking some of the neighborhood kids trick-or-treating. He watched them, following them from the rooftops, until she escorted everyone home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>About an hour later, he sees her again, in the back of Serge’s truck, dressed as a glow-in-the-dark skeleton. He watches as they drive away and resists the urge to follow them and instead goes the opposite way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---4 Days Later---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He, Dick, Demon Brat, Duke, and Replacement had stopped by a fast food joint after ending patrol early due to it being a slow night and were well into their meal when she, Morgan, and Serge walked in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They seemed excited about something and were chatting avidly. He couldn’t help but notice the pep in her step, or the charged spark in her eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other two leave her to order the food and Jason comes up with a cockamamie excuse to stand next to her as she waits.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” He says, approaching her after having ordered more fries.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” She responds cheerily, as if the sight of him made her even happier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help but to wonder what exactly would it take to make her angry at him; or, at least, to make her indifferent to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look nice.” He says, not being able to stop himself from lowkey checking her out; she did, after all. He didn’t even think she owned a crop top like that; elegant, but still...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks! We went to a Fleetwood Mac concert.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaa-ha. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds fun.” He says, feeling somewhat contrite that he’d missed out on it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was! Maybe next time you could come, or something.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, maybe. Hey, um, sorry about last time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She furrowes her brows and tilts her head to the side a little, confused. Fuck, she looked adorable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” she gasps as realization dawns on her, “that! Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re okay.” Her already large eyes widen a little, “You are okay, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, he wanted to kiss her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat, “yeah, I’m okay. How’s your couch? I’m pretty sure I got some blood on it.” He asks awkwardly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. It’s not the grossest thing to happen on my couch.” She says, looking snidely towards Morgan and Serge, who had began making out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason chuckles as Charlie makes a disgusted face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Man, he really wanted to kiss her!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it was nice talking to you.” She says, giving him that damn smile as she goes to pick up her order. “I’ll see you later.” She says softly before turning away and going to her friends.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mood dampens as she walks away. He sighs as he retrieves his fries and sulks back to his table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pouts as he discreetly (at least he hopes is discreetly) watches her eat, joke around, and eventually leave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alfred must have sensed it; otherwise he wouldn’t be Alfred. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was after the post-patrol speil, right before he was going to take his leave, when Alfred approached him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Master Jason, a moment?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, Alfie. What’s up?” Jason asks as Alfred leads them away from the others.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I could not help but notice that your mood as dampened even more this evening-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Replacement appears next to Alfred, intruding into the conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alfred raises an unimpressed brow at him, which he obviously doesn’t notice as he continues.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does this have something to do with that girl you were talking to before?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason’s cheeks heat up at this. Damn it! Why was he even watching- you know what, no. He was not doing this. Especially not with his replacement of all people. Alfred’s disapproval be damned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what, I forgot I have...a thing.” Jason says, putting his helmet on and walking away backwards. “So I’m just gonna-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He quickly turns around and power walks to his bike.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His phone rings as soon as he closes his door; Alfred.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Al-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Master Jason, it has come to my attention that the young lady Master Timothy mentioned might be someone dear to you-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Al-” Jason says, pinching the bridge of his nose. He seriously didn’t need this right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would be quite forlorn,” Alfred continues, shutting him down, “if you continued to act as if this second chance bore no meaning outside of the mission."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Al-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Besides, I believe Alfred Lord Tennyson once said, 'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.' That is all I have to say. You should get some rest. Goodnight, Master Jason.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aka, Alfred for ‘shut it and think, you stupid boy’.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight Alfred.” Jason sighs, resigned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as he’s about to turn in for the night, a noise from the kitchen grabs his attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on!” He groans, lumbering his way to the sounds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He is welcomed to the sight of Replacement shuffling around in his cupboards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Feeling a headache coming along, Jason sighs and massages the bridge of his nose with his other hand planted firmly on his hip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, pray tell, the fuck do you think you’re doing, Replacement?” He hisses out, hoping that the surly nickname would make the other discouraged enough to leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does your girlfriend know you live like this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re one to talk.” Jason fires back easily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Last time he checked, the kid was most likely 90% caffeine and always looked like he was gonna drop any second. How Bruce could replace him with that mess, he’ll never know. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And she’s not my girlfriend.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thanks to your dumb ass</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His mind hissed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was like he was in a one-sided custody battle, and he was losing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh.” Replacement drawls out, side-eyeing him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is some bullshit. He’s too tired for this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Listen, I’m too tired for this right now, so if you could kindly fuck off…” Jason trails off, gesturing towards the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s pretty.” Replacement says ignoring him before going back to ransacking his kitchen. “How did you two meet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nope. No. No way was this happening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Listen, I have a long, drawn out list of people I would discuss this with, and trust me, you’re fourth last. Also, what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Replacement shrugs before exiting the kitchen and wandering around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Got a lot of books. A good amount of first editions. Nice.” he says, perusing Jason’s bookshelves. “How long have you two known each other?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This carries on for another hour; he would wander around the place, inspecting it, and then ask a question about Charlie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, after seeing that Jason’s lips were shut tight, and that he really wanted to go to sleep, Replacement finally leaves, allowing Jason to finally turn in for the night-er morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---Some Days Later---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fourth time he sees her, he can’t take it anymore. Tim had made a habit of ‘visiting’ him after patrol (why? He has no idea) and Alfred kept dropping hints about his desire to see Jason move on with his life and even start dating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, have you told her how you feel, yet?” Tim asked one time while Jason fixed them both something to eat. Hey, if the little nuisance was going to insist on being there for some odd reason, Jason would be damned if he didn’t manage to get some nutrition into the beanpole. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We haven’t spoken in about 2 weeks.” Jason relents, sliding a full dish towards Tim. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d learned it was easier to just answer the questions than to continue to be stubborn and fight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously? You think that’s a good idea?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, she is really pretty…” Tim continues upon seeing Jason’s quirked eyebrow. “Didn’t you tell me that you guys met when she was fighting some creeps outside of a club? Not every guy is a creep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason frowns at this. He knew what Tim was talking about; one day, some random asshole might approach her and try and woo her. And there’s no guarantee that she won’t go with him. Next thing he knows, those looks and smiles that are reserved for only him will become someone else’s and she’ll become just a memory to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t want that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, about 2 weeks later, he and a couple other Bats were staking out on top of a club as they had gotten intel about a deal between two members from a couple of Gotham’s larger gangs. The Bats had gotten there early and were content with watching the club through the skylight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>First, he saw Lucie. She seemed nervous. Then came Morgan, who seemed very Morgan-ish; more than usual. Finally came Charlie, who, surprisingly enough, seemed to not mind that she was there. Of course, Morgan dolled all three of them up and Jason couldn’t help but notice just how even longer Charlie’s hair was when it wasn’t in its natural state. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all reach the bar and Jason’s breath catches in his throat once they take off their coats. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thought that lace crop-top was something.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was a deep blue, suede mini dress that had a slit on the side that helped show off her breathtaking legs (that was already being done justice in those lace-up heels, god bless) and was fitted in a way that showed off the curves of her body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Someone’s looking good.” Tim mutters from next to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut it.” Jason replies lowly, noticing that they weren’t the only ones who thought so.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Morgan pulls the other two towards the dancefloor. At first, Lucie and Charlie seem awkward as they try to navigate their surroundings, but quickly gather their bearings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slightly coughs as he watches her dance in a way he didn’t think she knew how to. Good lord help him, he was gonna need some water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason hears Tim give off a low whistle and tilts his head towards him as if to say, ‘Dude, what the fuck?’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim simply shrugs before they go back to observing the happenings below them. The song had finally ended and another, more fast paced song had begun. The dance style he was more accustomed to seeing made its appearance and he discreetly breathed a sigh of relief. She still looked hot, no doubt. But at least it wasn’t as unbearable as before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The night carries on and Charlie makes him feel parched only two more times in a span of two hours until she and the others leave. Of course, they attract stares as they go and Jason never wanted to punch several people in the face at once so badly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s probably the first time Jason had ever been truly happy to bust up a gang deal in a while; especially since Tim wouldn’t stop smirking at him, the little shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tonight was the last straw, it seemed, because after patrol, like, right after, he sends her a quick text asking her to meet him on top of her roof. He doesn’t care if he misses the post-patrol meeting; Bruce can just stick it up his ass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets there before she does and tries to calm his beating heart, to no avail. In fact, it gets worse when she gets there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes off his helmet and sets it down, deeply breathing in the city air before removing his domino mask and tucking it in his pocket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” She says as she approaches, giving him that smile. “What’s up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I like you.” He says urgently, just spitting it out before he could play himself again. “A lot. And I know you may not feel the same way anymore, which I wouldn’t blame you for. I’m sorry. I should’ve just said it from the start, when you told me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her expression goes from shocked to fond as she comes closer until she’s at his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jay,” she says softly, giving him that™ look (y’know, the one that makes him lowkey melt like ice-cream in July), “I didn’t tell you so that you’d say it back out of obligation, I told you because you are someone who’s very dear to me and it was something I wanted to say.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gently takes her hand in his own and stares deeply into her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. I just- I really don’t think I could’ve gone one more day without telling you.” He says, cramming as much emotion into his words and gaze as humanly possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now would be the prime time to kiss her, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, his phone buzzes and it takes everything he has to not chuck it somewhere.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not supposed to be here, are you?” Charlie says wearing a somewhat amused look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s just a stupid meeting.” Jason replies, slightly annoyed at whoever was insisting on calling him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jay-” She says softly, giving him one of her other looks; the kind that said, ‘You should get it over with’. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighs resting his forehead against hers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you later?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whenever you want.” She answers before he withdraws.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, and Jay,” she says as he places his domino over his eyes and goes to put his helmet back on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nervously turns to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s no way I could ever stop feeling the way that I do about you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ok. This was officially the best night of his life. He smiles at her and she returns it in kind with one of her patent, heart crushing smiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wave goodbye to each other as he takes his leave and he’s in such high spirits that even Dick and Bruce’s bitching doesn’t get to him when he finally arrives to the cave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they see that he’s too zen to deal with them, they move on to business, glowering at him the whole time; not that he cares. He’s on cloud 109.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You told her how you felt, didn’t you.” Tim says, approaching Jason in his safe-house kitchen after the meeting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yup.” Jason responds, popping the ‘p’.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aaand…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She said that there was no way she could ever stop feeling the way she does about me.” Jason says with a small, triumphant smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit, dude.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You seriously lucked out!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I just texted her asking if she’d wanna get some breakfast later.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.” Tim says, sipping his coffee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tim…” Jason says, giving him a tired expression that practically screamed, ‘spit it out’.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm just thinking that that was fast. I mean, it's probably a good idea for you to solidify everything with a date, but...I don't know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a date.” Jason replies, somewhat confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not!” Jason says at Tim’s quirked eyebrow. “It’s just breakfast! We used to do it all the time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both of Tim’s eyebrows now reach his hairline.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever, man. I’m going to bed. Don’t forget to clean up after you’re done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Maybe we could meet up after?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure. I’ll wear the disguise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---Multiple Hours Later---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help staring at her as she gazed at her menu. The sun shone bright through the window across from them, setting her face aglow; her warm brown eyes brightened into amber as the rays danced on her curls, forming a gentle halo. She scrunches her nose in faux thought, making him quietly chuckle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know why you’re even pretending to read it, you always get the same thing if it’s available.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No I don’t-” Charlie protests, a slight blush warming her cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Waffles. Extra whipped cream and chocolate syrup with strawberries. Bacon on the side. French vanilla latte for your drink.” Jason says with a smirk playing on his lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever, Mr. Eggs sunny-side up with toast, bacon, and Earl Grey tea.” Charlie responds after a beat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason’s smirk turns into a full-blown smile as he closes his menu and leans forward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I really missed you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her face softens into one of her more tender looks, the ones only reserved for him, while a smile that looked like heaven graced her features.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I missed you too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What have you been up to? Y’know, besides going to France and concerts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm, well, I think I’m officially, unofficially a Grace now. So there’s that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh. Let’s see-I almost blew up my workshop...again. Morgan’s gotten Lucie and me to do yoga with her, which is somehow worse than watching her and Serge make out.” She shudders comically, to Jason’s amusement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, it’s soo disgusting. And it’s always on my couch!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Man, that’s gotta suck!” Jason says, chuckling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, it does!” Charlie exclaims.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyways.” Charlie says, waving her hands as if to swat the subject away. “What about you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, same old same old. Repla-Tim started doing this thing where he would stop by after patrol.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A gentle twinkle lights up her eyes at this as she anticipates his words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At first, it was annoying as hell, but now, I guess I actually, maybe, kind of, don’t mind. Hell, we even started hanging out a little.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another smile spreads across her face and Jason could swear their surroundings became just a little brighter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s still some moments, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like?” Charlie questions as their waitress sets down their beverages and takes their orders; Charlie thanks her as she finishes and turns her attention back to him as the other girl spirits away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, for example, he thought that this was a date earlier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She does that cute thing where she tilts her head and scrunches her face up in half confusion, half amusement. He can’t help but wonder how much cuter it would’ve looked when she was a kid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” She says, taking a sip of her latte, “But, it’s just breakfast.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I said! It’s just breakfast! If it were a date, we’d call it a date, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nods and gestures towards him while still drinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I don’t know.” Jason says, shaking his head before drinking his tea. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, a thought occurs to him. “Do you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Want to go out. On a date. Just the two of us.” He continues, the words feel like cotton in his mouth and his pulse begins to race.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah.” She began.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could hear his heartbeat so loudly in his ear. Yes, he liked her, without a doubt. But could he-should he date her? Thoughts began to bubble in his head which her voice quickly pierces.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But should we? I mean, we don’t have to right away, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, thank God for Charlie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Jason says, the tension leaving his shoulders and a small, thankful smile appearing on his face. “There’s no rush, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right! We shouldn’t rush anything just because it’s expected of us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, thank God for Charlie!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re amazing, you know that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yup." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason rolls his eyes fondly as she grins cheekily at him before resuming their food.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Breakfast soon finishes and the two go their separate ways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>3 hours later finds him meeting Tim at some bistro, wearing a somewhat ridiculous disguise.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!❤❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 21: Preamble to New Beginnings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jason comes to an important decision with the help of people he holds dear...and Tim.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>YEET! *sprints back into the void*</p>
<p>I hope y'all have been staying safe and taking care of yourselves.</p>
<p>As usual, no beta.</p>
<p>I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So. What’s your next steps?” Tim asks as soon as Jason seats himself across from him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve told her how you feel-and I’m guessing breakfast went well by that twinkle in your eye and the smile you had coming in. And the fact that she’s a civilian and you know her pretty well, so that means that you must be trying to-or at least you want to- have some semblance of a normal life.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You got all that from a crush?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And I may have seen you with her and a couple others in some of the security footage around town.” Tim says, slightly tipping his head to the side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” Jason sighs. “Babs know too?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason lets out a small, if not tired, groan as he slouches in his seat. The Bats’ involvement was the last thing he needed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I doubt she would say anything. And neither will I.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Even still, I-I can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason gives him a look as if to say, ‘Are you serious?’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So?” Tim says, surprising his elder a little.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn’t about Bruce, or Dick, or me, or the mission. This is about you; and what you want.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I want... to take a walk somewhere without anyone thinking that I’m up to something. I want...for me to not be seen as this villain who wants to hurt the family or Gotham. I want to not get my team killed.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Even if you managed to get B and big D off of your case, it doesn’t mean you’ll be happy. And trust me, your teammates are more than capable of not dying."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just think about it.”  Tim finishes upon seeing Jason’s mouth open in protest. “Besides, it’d be nice to hang out without you wearing some weird getup.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why? Why do you even want me to be happy, much less hang out? I mean, I tried to kill you! And I didn't even call you by your name until recently." Jason mumbles, finally voicing the question that has been plaguing his mind for the past few weeks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, honestly? I don't know. It's just one of those things, I guess. And besides, you haven’t shot at me or threatened me in a while, so that's progress…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason gives him a pained look in response.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not to mention the fact that you’ve been fixing me food everytime I come by and are actually talking to me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason makes a non-committal grunt before picking at his food.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright then, look at it this way, now you owe it to not only yourself, but to me as well."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---Hours Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” Jason says softly, as if the phone would break if he spoke any louder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His lunch with Tim had ended hours ago and the younger boy’s words kept echoing in his ears; paired with Alfred’s.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey. You okay?” Charlie asks from the other line.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, um, I’m fine. I was just wondering, if after patrol, we could...talk.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course! Are you sure everything’s ok?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah. Everything’s fine.” He responds breathlessly. “I gotta go now. I’ll see you later.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“See you later.” Charlie replies, her voice thick with skepticism.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The call ends and Jason takes in a deep breath. Even though Alfred and Tim already gave their ten cents, he couldn’t help but to still wonder…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Patrol ended quickly (or maybe it was his nerves), and he found himself standing awkwardly on her fire escape.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t take long for her to spot him, wordlessly pull him inside, and sit him down on the couch before disappearing to the kitchen. She comes back with a steaming teacup on a saucer, which she places in front of him before sitting down on the chair next to him and gazing into his eyes. Hard.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong.” She gently states, not questions, leaning forward a bit with a grave look in her eyes that he’d rarely seen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just...Tim and I were talking…” He pauses to take a deep breath and spare a glance at her; patience and warmth graced her features as she waited for him to continue. “About me having a ‘normal’ life, amongst other things. The thing is, I don’t know if I can. Or should.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie furrows her brows at this and cocks her head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I have done some really fucked up shit…plus, this,” he gestures to himself, “is all I really know, all I’m really good at. I don’t know if I can...If I’m worth it.” He whispers the last part, earning a frown from Charlie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jason,” she begins in a tender voice, scooting just a little bit closer to him, “First off, you are one of the smartest, kindest, most amazing people I’ve ever met, filled with bountiful talent and potential.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks down, unable to meet her gaze. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She gently places a hand on his knee as she continues. “And two, there are literal scumbags who barely pay their employees, help kill the planet, and have 47 bathroom mansions with gold-plated toilets while you give your all to help those around you. So believe me when I say, you are more than worthy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Where would I even start? What would I do?” Jason asks quietly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie scrunches her face. “Well, maybe you could start with your name and then go on from there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My name?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie quickly nods. “Yeah, like whether or not you wanna legally resurrect yourself or not.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was like a pin dropped.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry.” She said bashfully. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What? How did-?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re scar.” She responds, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’d thought you looked kinda familiar, and then I saw your scars. I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna say anything.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean, ‘familiar’?” Jason asked as dread, suspicion, and a bit of anger rose up in his chest. He could feel the Pit slowly seeping through his bones. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie shrinks back a little and worries her bottom lip.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I may have done a bit of research before coming to Gotham, to see how safe it was and to be prepared.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason sighs. In retrospect, it made sense. Charlie was wicked smart, and he guessed it was a matter of time before she pieced everything together; she was a giant fan of puzzles after all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How much do you know, exactly?” He questions tiredly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie purses her lips and looks guiltily off to the side. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>BruceWayneisBatmanDickGraysonisNightwingTimDrakeisRedRobinthejuryisstilloutabouttheothers.” </span>
  </em>
  <span> She rushes out. He’s pretty sure she knows more but he drops it for now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, moving on. I don’t know if I can legally resurrect myself- if it is a good idea.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not? I mean, it is your name.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but, it also is the name of one Bruce Wayne’s deceased son and I don’t like being accused of trying to start some shit.” Jason frowns, conflicted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously? But it’s your name.” She draws out, her face scrunched in confusion. “Jay, it was yours before he adopted you, and yes, you also went through some shit with it, but it was also yours when you kneed Death in the groin and made it your bitch. No one else should have any right to it but you.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A determined look settles on her face as she looks deeply into his eyes, hoping that her words bared some meaning.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I just don’t wanna stir the pot.” Jason replies softly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyone who thinks of you reclaiming your name and your life as stirring the pot, is someone who doesn’t deserve your respect or consideration.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hell, this is something that should’ve been done the minute you came back." He hears her mutter under her breath as she shifts over to hug him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her light, flowery scent floods his senses as he instinctively pulls her onto him and holds her tightly in his grip, as if he didn’t, she would disappear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As usual, her small frame fits perfectly in his arms, yet if feels like he’s the one being held.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But, if you really don’t want to, you don’t have to use your name.” She continues. “We can figure something out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“As long as you’re here with me.” He finds himself sighing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Every step of the way, if you want.” She replies.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Did he want to? Could he? Alfred and Tim were right. She was right. He knew that. Especially the part where Bruce should’ve legally resurrected him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, sure, a lot of shit between him and the family happened; but that changed, right? Once the Demon Brat was resurrected, they did it for him. Meanwhile, here he was, playing nice and he can’t even visit Alfred without waiting for the others to go off doing whatever it is they do. Maybe it’s because he’s not the kid he used to be.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>What kid is that? Cause that kid and the kid they’re thinking about are different</span>
  </em>
  <span>." A small voice mutters in the back of his mind. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>They only think of you as a soldier, a dispensable tool</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was in that moment he reached a decision, consequences be damned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” He whispers, gently tapping her torso to signal the end of the hug. “I gotta go make a call.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t help but to gaze into her eyes as she leaves his embrace; silently thanking her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll warm up your tea.” She responds with a small smile before picking up the occupied saucer and spiriting away to the kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He fishes the burner phone that Talia gave him from his pocket as he makes his way onto the fire escape.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She picks up after one ring.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Tals. I know you said not to call outside of our monthly agreement, but it’s an emergency.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened, abnay?” She asks, her voice thick with concern.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I need your help-”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The next chapter is almost finished. I'm still editing it and should be done soon.</p>
<p>As always, thanks for reading!❤❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 22: Sunshine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An important thing is done and the fam meet.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Crawls out of my cave* It is Wednesday, my dudes!!!</p>
<p>Seriously though, I'm super sorry it took me so long to update. Writer's block is a bitch and a couple of other stressful stuff has been happening, so.</p>
<p>Anyway, I hope you guys have been staying safe. </p>
<p>Especially those who have been, and still are, taking part in the BLM protests. You all are so brave and strong for standing against injustice.</p>
<p>And for those who aren't protesting, or can't, please, don't be like Florida. Don't be like the Karens and Bobs. The pandemic is far from over. Wear a mask. Keep yourselves and others safe, please.</p>
<p>Quick heads up, I don't know what the process of making someone legally alive entails so...there's that.</p>
<p>Also, this is going to be a rather short chapter.</p>
<p>Without further ado, I hope you guys enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>---A Few Days Later---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t get any sleep; not that Charlie didn’t try to get him to. But between Talia insisting that this was the type of thing that should be done as soon as possible, and coordinating everything with Babs, Tim and Alfred, his nerves were gonna short out any minute now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He could feel the collar of the dress shirt choking him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He still doesn’t know how Talia was able to get a judge to see them this quickly, but he knows better than to question it. So, instead, he settles for holding Charlie’s hand as tightly as he can as they wait outside of the courthouse.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie squeezes his hand in reassurance just as Alfred and Tim arrive. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, you must be Charlie. I’m Tim.” He says as he approaches them with an outstretched hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Tim. It’s nice to finally meet you!” Charlie responds, flashing one of her brightest smiles and shaking his hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason could tell that Tim was slightly disarmed, as was Alfred, who had just joined them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And you must be Alfred.” Charlie says, turning her attention to the older man to greet him. “My name is Charlotte. Charlie for short.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Call her Charlie.’ Jason mouthed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It is quite the pleasure to meet you, Miss Charlie.” Alfred responds, shaking her hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her smile brightens even more at this and they bask in the warmth of it until the sound of Talia’s footsteps snaps them back to reality.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Marhabaan abnay.” Talia greets. A knowing glint settles in her eyes as they quickly flicker to Jason and Charlie's conjoined hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Marhabaan Tals." Jason replies, catching Talia's look. "This is my friend, Charlie. Charlie, this is…"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Talia Al Ghul, pleased to meet you." Talia interjects, shaking Charlie's hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's an honor to meet you, ma'am." Charlie responds. Her smile grows dopey as she makes her amazement towards Talia obvious, much to Talia's delight.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They make their way into the courthouse and get to business. Barbara had taken over the cameras nearby to hold off Bruce, but they didn't want to take any chances. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The judge sees them in his office and has Jason take a DNA test. Since Bruce isn't there to claim him, Talia easily takes over; officially making him Jason Peter Head-Todd.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They then find themselves at a bistro nearby in celebration. Jason’s arm hung lazily across the booth that he and Charlie shared while Talia sat next to Charlie on a chair. Alfred sat next to Jason, leaving Tim to sit across from them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Charlie, what do you do? The judge seemed to be rather cozy with you.” Talia questions after their waiter had given them their drinks and had taken their orders.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I just helped his daughter hide from her crazy ex once.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Charlie continues bashfully. “The security systems in my building helped, since they were designed to not let certain people in and to alert authorities when said individuals try to break in.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously? That's interesting. You wouldn't happen to be able to sneak one to me, would you?” Tim asks, his curiosity somewhat peaked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Better yet, I could give you the blueprints and one of the prototypes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Awesome." Tim responds, shooting Jason a look before resuming. "Don't want you to get in trouble with your landlord anyways. Probably would be some sort of breach of contract, wouldn't it."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not really, since she is the landlord.” Jason interjects before taking a sip.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was an accident.” Charlie says quickly, most likely thinking that the sentence was a form of damage control. It was not.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you accidentally become a landlord?” Tim questions, voicing Alfred and Talia’s very thoughts.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Charlie explains, looking at her hands, “I just wanted to find a place to stay.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie looks up and Jason easily recognizes the look that had settled on her face as the one that appears whenever she tries to claim that her actions are justified. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But the old landlord was a real piece of work who charged the tenants, like, two thousand dollars for rent while allowing the building to fall into disrepair.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There is a slight pause before Charlie finishes with complete resignation, “So I bought the building.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Various looks of shock and confusion settle on their faces as Jason chuckles into his cup.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What else do you do, dear?” Talia eagerly questions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She finances-how many businesses, now?” Jason interjects once again, sheer amusement shining bright in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“25.” Charlie mutters. “They’re all by accident, though. My true passions are science and engineering.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. You did say you made your own security systems.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nerd.” Jason snarks, disguising the word in a fake cough before smirking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She pulls That™ expression, the one he realized that he loves so much, that combines confusion and amusement as her head gently lolls to the side as she faces him; a few strands of her soft, heavenly-smelling hair fall into her face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Takes one to know one.” She replies.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Jason admits, tilting his head side to side. “But you’re the bigger nerd.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie frowns and squints at this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And don’t try and make the A.I. argument again. You’re the one you created her in the first place, and that out-nerds whatever I named her. Plus, you basically live in your workshop, I have to drag you home.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“First off, you suck.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason chortles at this. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And secondly, I’ve cut back on my tinkering time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, to tutor kids and watch dramas with a bunch of grandmas.” Jason retorts, shooting her a pointed look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You tutor them too! And telenovelas are more than just dramas and you know it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever you say, nerd.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie gently glares at him and playfully smacks his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Meanwhile, their company looks on in mirth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their little get together ends with the exchanging of contact information, promises of tea and a tour of Charlie's workshop and, much to Talia's delight, a kiss on Jason's cheek from Charlie as she takes her leave.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What an interesting girl." Talia muses as they watch Charlie's cab go by.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I like her." Tim says as Alfred comes up front with the car.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shall we, lady and gentlemen? There is another appointment that is nearing, after all."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Wait, what?" Jason exclaims as Talia and Tim push him towards the vehicle.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! ❤❤❤</p>
<p>Stay safe, stay informed! ❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 23: Feels Like Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just a feel good chapter.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi!</p>
<p>Please hydrate before you die-drate (seriously though, please. I almost did once. Not fun. 0/10 would absolutely not recommend.)</p>
<p>Wear your fucking masks, please.</p>
<p>Take care of yourselves and others.</p>
<p>Please take this time to also support indigenous/native lives and communities</p>
<p>Honestly, not much happens this chapter, I just thought it'd be neat.</p>
<p>I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>"Are you ready Timbo?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Charlie's voice rings out from her spot in the bustling workshop as the upbeat music charges the air.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Uh-huh." </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tim answers as he clacks away at the computer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Jay?"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Yeah"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jason answers, not looking up from his phone where he's been looking up colleges that have been recommended by both Talia and Delphi.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Poin-D?" </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The robot spins its arm in confirmation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Alright fellas, let's go!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie bobs her head from side to side and starts dancing around her workspace as Tim gently headbangs, and Jason taps his foot to the music.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, what do you guys think about Harvard?" Jason calls over the music.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ew." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Gross."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Gotham U?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie and Tim stop working to give him matching faces of disgust.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You two are fucking terrifying, you know that?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They respond with twin shit-eating grins before going back to work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fucking hell." Jason mutters as he represses a shudder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A part of him knew that he'd regret introducing the two; but he could've never predicted this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They orbited each other in a terrifying way after meeting just a week ago and it put him on edge.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Princeton?" Jason tentatively questions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The duo stop working once again to tilt their heads in thought. This time, Jason does shudder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, okay. Okay. Yeah, okay." Charlie mutters.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You do seem like a Princeton type of guy." Tim relents.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What does that even mean?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well," Charlie says, putting her tool down, "you do look like the type to wear tweed jackets and sweaters over flannel and own several first editions of classic novels as well as enough books to make a librarian weep-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Bullshit! You're just saying that cause you know me and you helped me move."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe so." Charlie retorts, squinting, before once again resuming her work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But, she's right, though."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You two are fucking menaces."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This gets him yet another pair of shit-eating grins.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Rutgers?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sure." Charlie says after taking a few seconds to think it over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"As a plan B." Tim amends.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason grunts his affirmation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What about plan C?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Caldwell seems fine."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Heh. C for Caldwell."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, how much sleep did you get last night?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>".... Enough."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason looks up from his phone at Charlie and frowns.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Charlie." Jason drawls.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Jason."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Tim!" Tim interjects, causing Charlie to snort.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I am afraid Mr. Jason is right, Miss Charlie. It is imperative that you retire within these next minutes as you have been working non-stop for these past 84 hours."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Snitch!" Charlie exclaims with her mouth agape as Tim let out an impressed whistle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks Neb! C'mon, let's go." Jason says, turning his screen off before standing up, stretching, and sauntering over to Charlie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Wait, wait, wait! I'm almost done!" She exclaims while simultaneously trying to finish up her work and moving out of Jason's reach.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Nope. C'mon." He says, grabbing the straps of her overalls.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Tim. Tim! Help me!" She calls as Jason begins taking away her tools while holding tightly onto her after readjusting his grip.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How can I?!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't know, man. Aren't you a ninja or something?" She says as Jason begins putting the tools away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What?!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Your computer just shut down!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Neb!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Both you and Mr.Timothy are in desperate need of rest and therefore certain measures must be made." The A.I. responds as she continues shutting down the main functions of the lab and tools.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You are a cruel child, Neb." Charlie pouts as Jason finishes putting away her gloves and goggles before hoisting her over his shoulder and going after Tim.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe so." Nebula retorts with a lilt in her voice. "Rest well."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This makes Charlie gasp in shock and outrage from Jason's shoulder as he walks out of the door with both her and Tim in towe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So, what'll be? Pizza? Chinese?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Why do I feel like that's a trick question?" Tim mutters as Jason puts him down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That's because it is, Timbo." Jason responds as he sets a still pouting Charlie in the front passenger's seat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can it still be pizza, though?" She weakly questions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sure. We'll have to stop at the store to get everything, though."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can we get ice cream too?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason heaves a deep sigh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fine."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yay!" The two cheer from their seats.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can we get chocolate syrup too?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ooh, and sprinkles!" Tim exclaims.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're a couple of spoiled brats, you know that?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This earns him an unexpectedly effective, deep brown puppy-dog eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fucking. Fine."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Where have you been all my life?" Tim whispers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie beams at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The trip to the store is short, and the time spent there even shorter, so it doesn't take long for Charlie and Tim to get into deep conversation concerning cryptids and conspiracies while helping Jason prep the ingredients needed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason didn't think he'd ever see a place like this as home; with its cream colored walls, heated hardwood floors, and overall modern style.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But now, as Charlie starts up some music and Tim bobs his head along, there's no better word he can find to describe this place, this feeling.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>------</b>
  <span>-</span>
  <b>Bonus-----</b>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's been a while since he'd seen streamers set up for him or worn anything resembling a party hat, nevermind two.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Light music drifted through the apartment, giving it a calm ambiance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>A "Congratulations </span><span>it's a</span> <span>boy</span><span> on your GED" banner hung in the living room. How Charlie and Tim managed to hang it above his mounted tv, he'll never know.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking of, the two midgets were currently hustling Morgan and Serge in Jenga and he knows he should probably step in but he's too busy thinking that it's funny.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alfred had commendered his kitchen, so the apartment was full of the smell of pastries and spiced meat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Talia stood by the couch, chatting with Lucie about heaven knows what.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A small smile easily graces Jason's face as he watches the scene in front of him and grows as Charlie appears next to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Bored of hustling?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"With targets as easy as them?" Charlie nods to where the couple are currently trying to keep the tower from toppling. "Absolutely."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're a menace."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie simply smirks and bumps his hip.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So, how're ya feeling?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Honestly? A part of me can't believe this is real."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie purses her lips in thought before draping her arm over his shoulder- or at least tries to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason gently nudges her as a silent thanks and they let themselves get lost in an easy happiness.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Here is a list of seven indigenous non-profits that you can support: https://www.animikii.com/news/7-indigenous-non-profits-to-check-out-this-givingtuesday</p>
<p>Thanks for reading!!! ❤❤❤</p>
<p>Take care of yourselves and others! ❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 24: Ballroom Blitz</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wanting to celebrate the direction that his life is heading, Jason takes Charlie to one of those fancy restaurants where you can dance.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry it's been a minute, but between writer's block and family health problems, ya girl's been in a crisis.</p>
<p>But I'm here!</p>
<p>Hope you guys have been doing good and keeping yourselves safe.</p>
<p>This chapter's a bit short and while I probably could've added more, I get wanted to be done with it. Soooo....yeah.</p>
<p>Anyway, no beta as usual.</p>
<p>Hope you guys enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He used to hate places like this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stifling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pompous.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Filled to the brim with pretentious elitists, making the environment as stiff as their suits.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But damn if she wasn't beautiful sitting across from him in that red dress, with the soft lightning caressing her silhouette, casting a gentle halo around her in a way that made it seem like she was the only other person in the room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Or maybe he just has tunnel vision.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The music wraps around them, isolating them even further from their surroundings.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie laughs at something he said, he doesn't remember what, only that she laughed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They eventually find themselves spiriting to the dance floor, among manufactured couples.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They go on for maybe two songs, or three, before something shifts and time seemingly slows down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Chances are 'cause I wear a silly grin</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The moment you come into view</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason holds her closer as the lyrics wrap around them and the others seemingly drift away into dust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Chances are you think that I'm in love with you</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie rests her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes, letting herself feel every emotion she associates with Jason as the music amplifies them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Jason gently kisses her head and buries his nose in her soft curls, letting the music say what he never thought he would feel in his lifetime.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Just because my composure sort of slips</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The moment that your lips meet mine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Chances are you think my heart's your Valentine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>In the magic of moonlight when I sigh, hold me close, dear</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Chances are you believe the stars that fill the skies are in my eyes</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Guess you feel you'll always be the one and only one for me</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And if you think you could</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, chances are your chances are awfully good</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the music continues, their steps meld into one, as if there were no longer two of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Chances are you believe the stars that fill the skies are in my eyes</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They eventually catch each other’s eyes and ocean and earth clash unbidden, stealing their bearers’ breathes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Guess you feel you'll always be the one and only one for me</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And if you think you could</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, chances are your chances are awfully good</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The chances are your chances are awfully good</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their eyes drift closed as the song draws to a close and their lips almost meet, but reality quickly sets in as they are interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He quickly checks and rejects the call, but the damage is done.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie gives him a small, shy smile in consolation for their lost opportunity as she takes his hand and leads him back to their table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a bit of effort, but Jason’s spirits are eventually raised once more and by the time that dessert comes, his focus is back solely on the young woman across from him (no matter how many times his phone had vibrated).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, wait, I almost forgot!” Jason exclaims, digging around in his jacket pockets for one of the things that brought them there tonight.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His fingers finally find the rectangular cardboard box before carefully taking it out of its hiding place and setting it on the table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s this?” Charlie softly asks, her hand slowly inching towards it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just my way of saying thank you. For everything. You’ve become someone that I care about deeply, and have done nothing but bring happiness and hope in my life in a way that I didn’t think that I’d deserve. So-” Jason nods to it before looking into Charlie’s tearfilled eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She gently picks up the box, undoes the ribbon, and opens it, revealing a delicate silver locket with a working compass on top. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Jay,” Charlie breathes as she takes the sight of it in, “it’s beautiful. Thank you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jason simply grins in response as he watches her fawn over her gift with a soft expression.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"The compass represents how you've become a source of direction for me. And how we'll always find our way back to each other." He says after he notices that she was staring specifically at the compass, therefore answering her unvoiced question.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her cheeks warm at this and a warm feeling, not unlike what she felt a while ago, settles in her chest once more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"May I put it on you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie eagerly nods as she moves her hair aside, knowing fully well that if she'd talk right now her voice would crack.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The locket is a comforting weight against her chest as she smiles up at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gently takes her hand before lightly kissing it and returning to his seat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They eventually finish their dessert and take their leave, enjoying each other's presence as they make their way to Charlie's before Jason has to submit himself to spending the rest of his evening with the Bats.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, thanks for reading!❤❤❤</p>
<p>Keep yourselves safe.</p>
<p>And please, for the love of all that's good, wear your fucking masks!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 25: Paper Cuts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Something is amiss and Charlie has no idea what to do or how to help. At least she gets to meet some more interesting people.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>What's good my guys, gals, and nonbinary pals?</p><p>Sorry for the mini hiatus. Your girl's been through it™. First was a case of writer's block, then my ma's health got worse, and then she passed and I had to deal with most, if not all, of the stuff that goes on when that kind of stuff happens (and honestly, I'm still going through some stuff as it's only been a month and a couple weeks.)</p><p>Sorry for the bad vibes, but that's what's been going on.</p><p>Hopefully I'll be able to write and update more as I really enjoy writing this fic.</p><p>I'm actually working on the next chapter right now so...yeah.</p><p>Also, the Outlaw line-up is just something that I saw on Tumblr and vibed with.</p><p>Anyways, as always, no beta.</p><p>Hope you guys enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Something was wrong.</p><p> </p><p>Jason was quiet. And not just any type of quiet, but the brooding kind.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn't school.</p><p> </p><p>And it wasn't his vigilante stuff. </p><p> </p><p>It was clearly personal.</p><p> </p><p>Which made the alarms blare more.</p><p> </p><p>Charlie makes herself comfortable in Jason's kitchen, waiting for the man of the hour to arrive so that she could get to the bottom of things, as the air suddenly shifts and a sound that she could only describe as *bamf* erupts from behind her and she doesn't hesitate to pivot and punch whatever-it-is in one swift movement.</p><p> </p><p>The scene that greets her when she orients herself is the confused faces of Jason, an extremely tall redheaded woman, an even taller superman knockoff, and another redhead decked out in red.</p><p> </p><p>She's sensing a theme.</p><p> </p><p>The tall woman is the first to bounce back, summoning a giant axe from thin air and shifting into a battle ready stance. The Superman knockoff quickly follows her lead when Jason jumps in front of them to shield her.</p><p> </p><p>"Whoa, whoa, guys, it's okay. She's not a threat."</p><p> </p><p>"Didn't she just sucker punch Devilman?" The red man asks in a bored voice tinged with mirth.</p><p> </p><p>"Force of habit." Charlie replies, grimacing.</p><p> </p><p>"It's Kid Devil." Jason tiredly responds at the same time.</p><p> </p><p>Jason and Charlie trade quick glances.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, I think it's a fine habit." The tall woman says as her axe magically disappears.</p><p> </p><p>"Little Her not bad guy?"</p><p> </p><p>"No, Biz, she's not a bad guy. In fact, she's a really good friend of mine. Her name's Charlie. Charlie? Meet Artemis-"</p><p> </p><p>The tall woman gives a short nod.</p><p> </p><p>"Bizarro-"</p><p> </p><p>The giant gives a shy wave to which Charlie reciprocates.</p><p> </p><p>"Rankorr-"</p><p> </p><p>Said man gives a lazy, two-fingered salute.</p><p> </p><p>"And that sack of meat and bones on the floor is Kid Devil."</p><p> </p><p>"Is he gonna be okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"Eh. Sure. He should be up in a bit."</p><p> </p><p>Charlie nods, still unsure and concerned.</p><p> </p><p>"So," Jason says with a low voice as he leads her away from the others, "what's up? Normally you'd call or text before stopping by. Is everything ok?"</p><p> </p><p>"That's actually what I've been meaning to ask you."</p><p> </p><p>Charlie rolls her eyes at his confused face.</p><p> </p><p>"Dude, you've been acting super weird and it's really worrying me. I can't help but to feel like you're planning something really reckless. And that's coming from me." She says as her eyebrows furrow in concern.</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry. I just found something out that's kind of a shock for me and I just needed to think about it for a bit."</p><p> </p><p>Surprise mixes with growing concern at his honest answer.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh. Do you want to talk about it?" </p><p> </p><p>"Not really... it's... complicated. And now I have to deal with it."</p><p> </p><p>"And I guess you don't want to tell me what 'dealing with it' entails."</p><p> </p><p>"Not really, no."</p><p> </p><p>She slowly nods her head, contemplating his answer along with the tidbits of information that she'd learned. She decides not to push anymore as she figures that she had cornered him enough for one day.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, just, please be careful?"</p><p> </p><p>"Of course, Short Stuff, who d'you think I am? Napoleon Bonaparte when he marched into Russia?"</p><p> </p><p>"Right. Well, I'm gonna go check on your friend and leave you guys to it." </p><p> </p><p>Despite her words, Charlie lingers a little longer if only to gently cup Jason's face with one hand.</p><p> </p><p>"You'll call me if you need anything, right? And I do mean anything." She murmurs while gently rubbing her thumb across his cheek almost absentmindedly.</p><p> </p><p>"Promise." He replies just as softly before taking her hand in his own and lightly kissing her fingers.</p><p> </p><p>Giving one last short nod, Charlie reluctantly makes her way back to Kid Devil, who had just begun regaining consciousness.</p><p> </p><p>She meekly introduces herself, quickly attends to him, and takes her leave.</p><p> </p><p>Her anxiety never leaves. If anything, it just gets worse.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the short chapter. I honestly just wanted to get it done. The next chapter will most likely be longer.</p><p>As always, thanks for reading and even commenting. It means a lot. ❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 26: Listen Before I Go</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A " You've Got The Love" version of RHaTO #25 (mainly in Charlie's POV and shortened)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>First off, I would just like to say thank you to everyone who is still reading this fic and even to those who are just now reading it. It really means a lot, so thank you.</p><p>Secondly, I really hope you guys have been taking care of yourselves and may I say a quick Happy Hanukkah to any Jewish peeps that are reading this and Happy Holidays to everyone else!</p><p>Anyways, I peeked at the date that I last uploaded and may I say, oof.</p><p>Sorry if this chapter and the next seem short and not completely up to par, I just really wanted to get them out to you guys.</p><p>Hope y'all enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The tears won't stop falling as her eyes refuse to leave the tv screen even when the slight *bamf* sounds behind her and she sees the reflection.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll go get my supplies. My room is down the hall on the right.” She rasps as she darts to her supply closet, not even bothering to look back at the horned, white-haired hero currently wrestling his teammate’s mangled body into the corridor.</p><p> </p><p>“Neb? Initiate Protocol Calamity.”</p><p> </p><p>“Understood. Shall I alert Miss Grace, Miss Gacino, and Mr.Carmello of your whereabouts?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. I’m not staying long. And we have work to do afterwards.”</p><p> </p><p>“Very well. I have also taken the initiative of contacting Miss Al Ghul and notifying her of our intentions.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Neb. Really.” Charlie says before taking a deep breath and steeling herself for the rather gruesome work ahead. She just thanks heaven above that she’d taken all those medical classes.</p><p> </p><p>While this is far from the first time she’s had to patch Jason up, it hurts more than the other times combined. Rage seeps into her bones as she administers the best care she can at the moment, the only thing stopping her from acting on it currently bleeding out on her bed. She finishes her work and tells Kid Devil of the protocol, along with the address prepared.</p><p> </p><p>Once the sound of the tell-tale *bamf* fades away, Charlie breathes a steadying breath, grabs her helmet, wallet, and keys, and heads out the door with Maurice in tow.</p><p> </p><p>The ride to her father’s-her cabin in Upstate New York is relatively quick, aided by the fact that she had broken several traffic laws to get there.</p><p> </p><p>She quickly unlocks the door for Kid Devil-Eddie, who had been patiently waiting while having his arms full of 200 pound vigilante.</p><p> </p><p>She swiftly leads him through the many corridors and shared spaces to the master bedroom where he gently sets Jason down on the spacious bed before she rushes back out to the front entrance where an entire squad of doctors had just arrived.</p><p> </p><p>She leads them back to the room and leaves them to their ministrations, thankful for all the NDA’s that she had them sign beforehand (not that it took much effort on her part to convince them, after all, money talks).</p><p> </p><p>As soon as a distraught Talia appears, is introduced to the doctors, and is situated, Charlie heads back to Gotham; not to her secured apartment, but straight (or as straight as she can go with all the riots racking Park Row) to her workshop.</p><p> </p><p>By the time three days had passed, the GCPD had retracted the attempted manslaughter charges on Red Hood thanks to new evidence given by an anonymous source (not that it made the riots stop...in fact, they only got worse).</p><p> </p><p>3 hours after that, Tim had arrived at the workshop’s entrance with two steaming cups of coffee.</p><p> </p><p>“So, what do you have so far?” He questioned with a meaningful look in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>A ghost of a grin graces her face as she lets him in.</p><p> </p><p>The duo managed to work uninterrupted for 2 days straight. </p><p> </p><p>Then the 3rd day came.</p><p> </p><p>“Turn the screens back on, Neb. The projections too.” Charlie requests absentmindedly as she impatiently taps on her now disabled keyboard.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t believe it would be wise to do-” The A.I. responds.</p><p> </p><p>“Neb! Turn them on, now.” Charlie repeats, slightly more aggressively.</p><p> </p><p>Tim looks up at the scene taking place in front of him. This was the first time he’d heard her speak in that type of way and honestly, it worried him.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t believe Mr. Jason would approve of your course of action.”</p><p> </p><p>“He wouldn’t approve of me finding the people that he cares about and a way of speeding his recovery along?” Charlie questions flatly, her already thin patience evaporating.</p><p> </p><p>“Not while neglecting yourselves. You know that if he were awake, he’d demand for you to rest immediately.”</p><p> </p><p>“But he isn’t awake now isn't he.” She snaps as Tim moves closer to her and rests a hand on her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t the way-”</p><p> </p><p>“Well what else am I supposed to do!” Charlie cries while slamming her shaking hands onto the desk as frustrated tears pool in her eyes. “Jason is in a coma and there’s nothing I can do about it! I couldn’t even keep him from ending up in this situation in the first place! So the least I could do is not be even more useless. I can rest when everything is done!”</p><p> </p><p>Tim wordlessly wraps his arms around her, letting his actions replace his words as she catches her breath and roughly wipes her eyes dry with the back of her hand.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Neb. Timmy. I just-”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay. Next thing you know, Jason’s gonna open his eyes and start giving the doctors a hard time.”</p><p> </p><p>His lighthearted and optimistic words cause her to giggle wetly as she pats his arm in thanks.</p><p> </p><p>“And I suppose that it would be considered a treat to see all of his loved ones at his bedside. Don’t you think, Miss?” Neb relents, once again allowing the stilled workshop to resume function.</p><p> </p><p>Charlie sniffles while shooting a grateful look at Tim and the nearest camera before taking a steadying breath and getting back to work. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun fact: That last bit with Charlie is something that I actually experienced in highschool. Hopefully, I conveyed the feeling well.</p><p>I also wanted to write a little bit of Tim and Charlie's relationship and give them a little science-sibs vibe.</p><p>Anyways, thanks for reading! ❤️❤️❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 27: Take On Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Charlie once again channels the energy of the "Kermit with a gun" meme.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello once again! I would like to thank y'all once more for reading my fic, it will always mean a lot.</p><p>Hope y'all are staying safe and taking care of yourselves.</p><p>I've already started working on the next chapter, so hopefully that will be out soon.</p><p>In the meantime, hope y'all enjoy this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It finally happened on one of the days that Tim had to leave the workshop in order to keep up appearances, right after she had made a second breakthrough in her search for Jason’s missing family.</p><p> </p><p>She probably wouldn’t have heard them coming if she were someone who didn’t have to listen for their siblings and mother’s footsteps during their formative years.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve got a lot of nerve to show your faces here.” She states in a taut voice without even turning to look at the Intruders.</p><p> </p><p>“Where is he.” A deep, baritone voice growls out.</p><p> </p><p>"I know a lot of 'hes'. Gonna have to be more specific."</p><p> </p><p>"We're not in a playing mood." A slightly higher voice interjects rather impatiently.</p><p> </p><p>"What a coincidence, neither am I." Charlie coolly responds, her eyes hard as she finally turns to face them.</p><p> </p><p>There were five people in the group: the lone daughter and master martial artist of the family, Cassandra Wayne; Talia’s first son, Damian Wayne; Wayne’s first charge and literal partner-in-crime, Richard Grayson; an uncomfortable looking, dark-skinned young man that she can only guess as Duke Thomas; and finally, the big man himself, Bruce Wayne. Obviously, they had realized it would have been suicide to show up in their capes and tights, but, unfortunately for them, what they didn’t realize was that the little power-play that they were trying to do by coming over in their Sunday best did nothing. She had grown up with monsters disguised in Armani suits and Dior dresses that would eat them for breakfast.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, no, I'm gonna stop you right there.” She says holding a hand up, stopping them as they tried to come further into her sanctuary. “My shop, my rules."</p><p> </p><p>“Your shop? It is a bit unassuming, I’ll give you that.” Grayson probes as he and the others look around from their vantage point.</p><p> </p><p>"Right, because everyone who associates with Jason is some sort of evil mastermind or weapons manufacturer.”</p><p> </p><p>“Still, interesting tech you’ve got here.” Wayne says as conversationally as he can, following Grayson’s lead.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, not everyone falls back on rich people bullshittery as a hobby, Wayne. Or should I say Bats?.”</p><p> </p><p>“So he really did tell you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, I figured it out before I even got here. Your patterns are easily recognizable and I’m not used to being inattentive.”</p><p> </p><p>“Listen, we just want to know where Hood is.”</p><p> </p><p>“First off, his name is Jason." She sneered, her voice dripping with pure loathing. "Secondly, like hell am I telling you.” </p><p> </p><p>“You are aiding and abetting a criminal who is wanted for attempted murder-” Bruce grounds out, clearly done with playing nice.</p><p> </p><p>“It was a blank, you sanctimonious jackass!” She snaps impatiently.</p><p> </p><p>"Lies! You will slander my father no further!" Damian finally interjects, storming forward a little before being held back by Duke and Cassandra.</p><p> </p><p>In all honesty, she had expected him to speak up a lot sooner, but up until now, he, Cassandra, and Duke had stayed silent, content to let the older two talk their heads off.</p><p> </p><p>With her eyebrow quirked, she digs a thumb drive looking device out of her pocket, places it on the table next to her and presses the power button. A holographic screen automatically springs up and starts playing the footage from Red Hood's confrontation with Cobblepot, first at normal speed, then enhanced and slowed down, making the fact that the gun had fired a blank as clear as day.</p><p> </p><p>There is a varied mixture of shock, guilt and unbelief in the faces of each individual at this information, but it’s Bruce’s look of combined shock and unbelief that makes Charlie’s anger and disgust spill over.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god,” She lets out a sardonic laugh as she stops the footage, “you really didn’t even check, did you? You attacked him, put him in a coma, was trying to cart him off somewhere, and you didn’t even make sure that you got all your facts straight! Ho-ly shit! And you’re supposed to be the world’s greatest detective?!”</p><p> </p><p>"He's in a coma?" Grayson chokes out.</p><p> </p><p>"No, he's taking a vacation in Aruba and asked me to cover for him." She taunts as she bares her teeth in a mock smile.</p><p> </p><p>"I didn't-I couldn’t have-”</p><p> </p><p>"He was already injured and then struck in damaged areas multiple times with incredible force. What did you think would happen?!"</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I mean, Jason has always been able to take some of the hardest hits and then get back up.”</p><p> </p><p>Even Cassandra, Duke, and Damian looked as if they didn't agree with that sentence. Meanwhile, Wayne was busy having a mini crisis.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh my-he's still a human being! I can’t believe that that was a sentence that I actually had to say!”</p><p> </p><p>“This is all the more reason for you to tell us where he is. We can take care of him.”</p><p> </p><p>"No, actually, it’s not. Besides, he’s already being taken care of. All of my doctors are vetted and have signed a whole plethora of NDAs."</p><p> </p><p>"We're his family!" Grayson roars.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you sure about that?” Charlie calmly, yet sarcastically, inquires with a grimacing face. “Literally, the only reason you were even looking for him was to cart him off somewhere and leave him there to rot."</p><p> </p><p>"Please-"</p><p> </p><p>“Over my dead body.” She interjects with finality, stopping Grayson's protests in their tracks before shifting her eyes to Bruce. “Now get the hell out of my workshop.”</p><p> </p><p>She nearly collapses as soon as the door shuts and automatically locks, the stress from the week and the confrontation combining and cascading over her.</p><p> </p><p>"How long do you think it would take them to come back?" Nebula queried with a somewhat amused tone.</p><p> </p><p>"I'd give Cassandra and Damian 3 hours. As for Grayson and Wayne, could you initiate Protocol Osprey please?" Charlie responds tiredly as she pinches the bridge of her nose.</p><p> </p><p>"Already commenced, Miss."</p><p> </p><p>"God, what would I do without you?"</p><p> </p><p>"I believe you would do just fine. Although, I am curious, will you actually give Miss Cain and the young Wayne the location of Mister Jason?"</p><p> </p><p>"I... don't know. They were backing Grayson and Wayne up when they came…But their faces when they saw the footage-. Whatever happens will happen I guess."</p><p> </p><p>“In the meantime, I have some very promising calculations that I would like you to see.” Neb announced with a hint of excitement in her voice as a new plethora of holographic numbers flicker into view.</p><p> </p><p>“Neb...what-what are these?” She asks, knowing fully well what they are as her eyes begin to water.</p><p> </p><p>“You are going to bring them home, Miss.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” She breathes before sniffling and steeling herself. “Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>The not unwelcome presence arrives halfway through the 16th simulation.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello, Cassandra.” Charlie greets kindly as she turns to meet her costumed guest. “How may I help you this evening?”</p><p> </p><p>“Please.” She pleaded as she removed her mask. “I want to see my brother.” </p><p> </p><p>“I as well.” Damian announces, stepping out from the shadows in his full Robin ensemble. “Father’s actions have been deplorable and I will not stand idly by anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just us. Promise.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” She says after a couple seconds of contemplation, to the shock of the siblings. “I’ve always thought that you two weren’t so bad. Besides, I’m pretty sure that he’d never forgive me if I kept you from him.” </p><p> </p><p>Charlie takes a moment to rummage around for a blank piece of paper before removing her pen from behind her hair and writing the address to the cabin down along with some instructions.</p><p> </p><p>“He had always spoken fondly of you two. And Duke. And Stephanie- basically everyone except Wayne and Grayson.” She says as she hands Cassandra the paper. “Anyways, be careful getting there, the road leading to the cottage is pretty rough.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not taking us?” Damian asked, having obviously expected Charlie to chaperone them in an effort to keep her eyes on them.</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Charlie responds, shaking her head. “There are a couple of people missing who are important to him. So I’m going to bring them back.”</p><p> </p><p>“Also, just a heads up,” Charlie calls as the two begin to take their leave, thereby stopping them in their tracks, “your mom is there, Damian. I don’t know the whole story, but I do know that she misses you and will most likely want to talk to you. So, be on the lookout for that. Thankfully, the alpacas are great stress relievers, especially Mildred.”</p><p> </p><p>“Noted.”</p><p> </p><p>She gives them a small grin and nod as they head out before once again burying herself in her work.</p><p> </p><p>*Bonus*</p><p> </p><p>Three weeks later saw Charlie milling around the shop, wearing clothes suited for an adventure, completed with a leather backpack, while Tim watches her with his head propped up on his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“There should be a delivery coming later today, so be on the lookout for that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yup.”</p><p> </p><p>“Neb will initiate Protocol Goose if Wayne or Grayson even approaches the block, so if you get trapped in, it’s that and not her going all HAL 9000 on ya.”</p><p> </p><p>"Good to know."</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, and don’t forget, Poi-D’s maintenance has to be done today or he will get fussy.” </p><p> </p><p>The sentence is punctuated by a whir from aforementioned robot.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know. There’s no one else I’d trust to watch over this place.” She confesses as she holsters a gun to her hip.</p><p> </p><p>“Woah, since when did you have a gun?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s my dad’s. I asked Eddie to get it for me yesterday.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, then, since when did you know how to shoot?”</p><p> </p><p>“I may or may not have gone hunting with my grandparents when I was younger.” Charlie bashfully confesses.</p><p> </p><p>“I keep forgetting that you’re a rich person.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.” Charlie chirps as she adjusts a strap before pointing the oval device in front of her and clicking on the largest button, causing a beam of light to shoot out of the contraption and spread a ways in the air, seemingly tearing the air apart until there was a shifting portal.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, go get ‘em. Don’t die.”</p><p> </p><p>A cheshire grin takes over her face as she disappears through the portal.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun Fact: The gun that Charlie took with her was a revolver. It was a gift from her grandfather to her dad.</p><p>As always, thanks for reading!❤️❤️❤️</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The first few chapters are OC oriented.</p><p>Thanks for reading!</p><p>Feel free to kudos and comment!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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